The Flower Girl
by winterhorses
Summary: As a florist, Isabella plays a role in many significant events, interacting with people during their best moments and their worst. She keeps a part of herself emotionally protected—until pediatrician doctor Edward Cullen and his significant other move into town. Soon, she realizes that doing her job will mean causing her own heart pain.
1. Chapter 1 - Renee Swan

**So there I was, working diligently on "A Horse of A Different Color," when CHOMP!-I was attacked by a rabid plot bunny. It was weird.**

**I'm just about finished this "one-shot," but decided to go ahead and post the story in little chunks, hopefully daily, because my brain hurts. That's what rabies can do.**

**I'm marking this M, but if anything, it'll probably end up being a soft-core M, whatever that means.**

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><p>Chapter 1 - Isabella's Mother and Father<p>

Other than home, Isabella Swan rarely went anywhere except work and the grocery store. Yet she knew more about the residents in her small town than Harry Clearwater did, and he ran the local pub.

As the owner of the only florist shop in town, Isabella played a role in almost every birth, graduation, wedding, and funeral that occurred. She provided tokens of affection for budding romances, helped groveling husbands work their way back into good favor, and suggested beautiful yet economical bouquets for cash-strapped teens on Mother's Day.

The last task was a bittersweet one for Isabella. She wished with all her heart that she could give gifts to her own mother on those Sundays in May. However, she also took comfort in the knowledge that Renee Swan's long-fought battle with cancer was finally over.

Renee informed her husband about her breast cancer when Isabella was eight. After a double mastectomy, she felt the gravity of morality weighing down her soul. Would it be possible to escape its deadly pull if only she could run fast enough? She had to try. So, Renee fled her old life, her responsibilities, and her family in the middle of a frosty January night.

She never looked back. Postcards from around would appear in the Swan mailbox, and Isabella always got some sort of odd trinket for her birthday. Not once, however, did Renee actually speak to the man she'd married or the child she'd borne.

Charlie was shocked when he picked up the phone one evening and was greeted by the voice of his estranged wife. He loved her still and held onto the hope of her return. Then she told him that the cancer was back, had metastasized to her bones and liver. He fell to the floor and wept for hours. After pulling himself together, he drove all night to the college where Isabella was a freshman.

He broke the news to her on a blustery, overcast fall morning. She insisted on leaving with him, and so Isabella gave up her dream of college to assist in caring for her mother. Two months into their stay, however, Charlie wasn't able to bear it any further. He was ashamed of his weakness but just couldn't handle watching his wife depart again. Not like that—slowly, painfully, permanently. He returned to his house and his job and his life, but Isabella stayed.

And when her mother died two years later, she continued to stay. College no longer held any interest to her. She couldn't imagine returning to classes alongside students younger than her, teens who saw the world so differently than she did now. Once, she had been interested in studying business in school, but during the last six months of Renee's life, Isabella ran the shop completely on her own. Although on a smaller scale than previously desired, the 20-year-old woman was already a part of the business world.

Renee Swan had always been larger than life, and despite the passage of time, her presence persisted in the flower shop she left to her young daughter. The walls remained a bright sunflower yellow, still adorned with whimsical photographs of baby animals stuck in unfortunate situations. The same four mismatched chairs sat around a table holding the same electric tea kettle that Renee kept plugged in whenever the shop was open. And, as they had done every weekday during Renee's two years as owner, retired widows Judy Greene and Pearl Ridenour continued to come in at one o'clock, have their tea with lemon scones, and fill each other in on the latest gossip while classical music played softly in the background.

Isabella had tried numerous tools, lubricants, and degreasers to change the dial on the beat-up radio connected to the aged store's built-in speakers, but she couldn't get the thing to budge. Rather than shell out money from her meager savings account to have the system replaced, she left it tuned to the station featuring the classical music her mother had loved so much. There were times she felt a pang of grief when one of Renee's favorite pieces played, but for the most part, the background music served as a source of comfort.

Her father still kept in touch through phone calls, but his attempts at communication were few and far between. At times, Isabella wondered why she wasn't more dismayed about the emotional distance that now separated her and her father. After all, the man had raised her single-handedly for the majority of her life. Perhaps it was because father and daughter were both rather introverted souls who rarely let others inside their protective shells. Or maybe the spectacular way Charles Swan failed her mother had something to do with Isabella's alienation from him. Whatever the reason, he no longer played an active role in her life.


	2. Chapter 2 - Lauren Mallory

Chapter 2 - Lauren Mallory

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><p>The years slipped by, and overall, Isabella was happy. She renovated and expanded her mother's dilapidated greenhouse, installing a hydroponic section, solar panels, and an automated irrigation system which included rainwater capture. Eventually, she was able to provide about 25% of her supplies from the stock she produced. It didn't affect her bottom line much, but the satisfaction she received from making arrangements with flowers and plants grown by her own hand couldn't be measured in dollar amounts.<p>

She didn't have anyone she'd consider a best friend, but nearly everyone in town either knew her personally or through others. She was the Flower Girl—the sweet, polite, hard-working young lady who ran one of the most respected businesses in town. Although she employed a small staff, Isabella turned personal attention into an art form. She delivered and placed centerpieces for banquets, pinned boutonnieres to groomsmen, filled special orders during non-store hours when customers called her at home.

Most importantly, however, she listened. There was something about her soft, unassuming features and large, liquid eyes that prompted people to open up. Grandmothers bragged about their grandchildren's accomplishments and nervous boys sought approval for their carefully laid pre-dance dinner plans. Mothers complained about the necessity of buying appreciation gifts for teachers they didn't like, and the bereaved reminisced about loved ones over tea and pastries while sitting in faded, mismatched chairs.

And Isabella listened, occasionally offering words of solace, encouragement, or praise. Sometimes, her customers revealed private details or even guarded secrets. But she never repeated what she heard, never perpetuated gossip that often was shared within the sunny yellow walls of the shop. The townspeople knew she was as trustworthy as a priest in a confessional—maybe more so, for she had no designs to act as a conduit to a higher authority.

It was through these gossip channels that Isabella first heard about the arrival of Dr. Edward Cullen. Apparently seeking a change from the fast-moving pace and stress of practicing in a big city, the young but accomplished Dr. Cullen accepted a position at the one and only medical center in town. He was a pediatrician and could offer specialized care that previously had not been available from the general practitioners who worked there.

Judy and Pearl were especially besotted with the handsome 34-year-old. They gushed over his trim, well-maintained physique and giggled when discussing his sharp jaw and piercing green eyes. Pearl was now delighted that her seventeen-year-old granddaughter had been knocked up by her high school boyfriend. She intended to accompany the girl to every single well-child visit once the baby was born. Judy wagered five dollars and a pumpkin roll that she would not have the gumption to pinch the good doctor's "tight hiney."

Isabella didn't pay much attention to their incessant chatter—certainly no more than she had when the ladies roasted young Jessica Stanley for being caught by her much older husband in a compromising position with the hardware store's errand boy. The flower shop owner knew the women's penchant for exaggeration and embellishment. For example, she highly doubted that the girlfriend who moved to town with Dr. Cullen was an overbearing snob. She didn't believe the attorney actually forbade her significant other to wear casual clothes outside of the house or demanded he fill his staff only with women over fifty.

But when Lauren Mallory entered her flower shop for the first time, Isabella wondered if the rumors had a touch of truth to them.

It was a Saturday, a cheery April morning. Isabella was in the back workroom arranging a large piece for the Baptist church's upcoming Easter service. When the front door's delicate metal chimes tinkled, she finished securing a large lily and wiped her hands on her mother's faded blue apron.

"Excuse me, hello? Does anyone work here?"

"I'll be right there," Isabella called as she tucked a wayward piece of chocolate brown hair behind her ear.

Dressed in what appeared to be an expensive business suit, Lauren stood impatiently in front of the counter, arms held close to her body as if afraid to touch anything lest she dirty herself.

"Good morning. How may I help you today?" Isabella asked in her usual welcoming tone.

"I'd like to speak to the manager or owner of this business. I have a recurring order to place, with particular requirements that need to be filled."

Isabella held out her hand. "I'm the owner and would be happy to discuss the details with you. My name's Isabella Swan."

"You're the owner? Aren't you a bit young for that?" Lauren's discerning eyes flicked between Isabella's face and her outstretched hand.

In her typical garb of comfortable jeans and loose-fitting tee shirt, her hair haphazardly pulled up in a ponytail, Isabella realized she probably looked even younger than her relatively youthful 24 years.

"I've been running the shop for almost five years," she replied with an easy smile, not at all offended.

"I see," Lauren said, finally grasping Isabella's hand with her carefully manicured fingertips. "I have an order to place for a weekly delivery of fresh flower arrangements to a place of business and a residence. Do you think you can handle something like that?"

"Of course, ma'am. Let me get my order sheets, and we'll get started. Please have a seat and help yourself to the tea and refreshments."

While Isabella retrieved her pad and a pen with a large cut daffodil attached to its end, Lauren lowered herself onto the least faded of the chairs and laid her Burberry handbag on her lap.

"Please tell me about the business order, Ms.—?"

"Mallory. Ms. Lauren Mallory. I want a classy, professional floral arrangement for the reception desk at Meadowland Pediatrics. No cheap, rural flowers like sunflowers or daisies. They should be calla lilies, pale roses, fancy tulips, and the like. If you need specific examples, I can provide them."

"That shouldn't be necessary. I have a good idea of what you have in mind." She reached into a nearby basket and flipped open a photo album. "Here are some of the arrangements and centerpieces I've done featuring calla lilies. The next section shows white roses."

Isabella hid a smile as she watched surprise spread across her customer's features. She wouldn't go as far as to declare she was artistically gifted, but the florist knew she'd inherited her mother's eye for seeing finished beauty in raw materials.

"Yes, well, arrangements like these should be adequate."

"Do you have a targeted price range?"

Lauren sniffed as though the question was taboo. "Are you insinuating that I might not be able to afford your services?"

"Of course not, Ms. Mallory," Isabella replied in bewilderment. "I was just trying to gather information to help me during the selection and creation process."

"I expect you to use quality materials befitting the office of nationally recognized doctor. The price is a small consideration. Of course, I will be carefully reviewing all invoices for signs of inappropriate charges. I am a corporate attorney and—"

"I would never!" Isabella exclaimed, taken aback by the notion. She reminded herself that Lauren Mallory was new to the town and wouldn't be familiar with her sterling business practices.

They finished up discussion of the office delivery and moved on to the flowers Lauren wanted for the home she and Dr. Cullen shared. Despite her desire for "appropriate" choices, she floundered when trying to describe what she had in mind.

Isabella suggested that photos of the home be brought in, but Lauren was impatient and apparently too busy to go through the hassle. Instead, it was decided that the florist would stop by the residence after the shop closed for the day.

Sharon Delaney from the dentist's office entered the store just as Lauren was leaving. She waited until the woman's shiny Mercedes drove away and turned to Isabella with a knowing look.

"She's a bitch, isn't she?"

Isabella chuckled and shook her head, not giving anything away.

Sharon knew better than to probe for information. Instead, she perused the selection of office planters and smirked.

"Dr. Jeffries had her in for a bleaching the other day. He considered shutting the door and turning on the gas just so he could stand to be in the same room as her. Poor Melissa was the one who administered the treatment and said the woman drove her nuts even with a mouth stuffed full of whitening trays."

Isabella couldn't stop her snort of amusement. "Do you need help finding anything, Sharon?"

"I'm just looking. Menopause is kicking my ass, and I need things to cheer me up on the down days. Of course, I'll take any excuse to get out of the office when Dr. Crowley is in a mood."

Jane Crowley was 38 weeks pregnant and very grumpy. Just the other day, her frazzled husband, Tyler, had come into the shop asking for a dozen red roses in hopes of putting a smile on her lips. Isabella heard that he went to work the next day with several scratches that may or may not have been caused by being smacked about the head with a thorny bouquet.

"So, Isabella, have you met Dr. Cullen yet? I wish he was a family doctor—never thought I'd be jealous of drooling infants. That is one fine specimen of man."

"I haven't run into him yet, but Ms. Mallory just set up a weekly arrangement for his office." No need to mention the home visit.

"I hear he's much more relaxed at work. His Domme keeps him on a tight leash when they're out in town together."

One of Isabella's eyebrows rose in skepticism. She knew such relationships existed, even in small towns like hers, but it didn't seem likely that the information would be public knowledge.

"Oh, I don't know that for sure, of course," Sharon said, "but it's the best explanation I can come up with. Why else would any man put up with such a controlling, uptight harpy?"

It was a good thing that was a rhetorical question, because Isabella had little experience from which to base an answer. She had a few short-term boyfriends in high school and lost her virginity during a summer romance when she was 21. When Ben returned to college, the two tried to make a long-distance relationship work, but both the physical distance and the differences in their life situations ultimately did them in. He had been concerned about studying, exams, and parties while she was worried how the drought and rising gas prices would affect her livelihood.

There had been a handful of dates since Ben. Nothing came of them, and honestly, Isabella was too busy to care much. There were times, usually before bed while indulging in a chapter from a recently downloaded romance novel, that she dearly wished to love and be loved in return. But it was a fleeting feeling, always gone come morning when she had to focus on her daily shop duties. Besides, she had learned the hard way to accept the inevitable, and the chances of her finding a life partner in the mostly stagnant town dwindled with every new wedding bouquet she made.


	3. Chapter 3 - Dr Edward Cullen

Chapter 3 - Dr. Edward Cullen

After putting together a small but elegant housewarming gift of short-stemmed white tulips in a 5" square glass vase, Isabella went to the tiny home she inherited from her mother and changed, then drove her battered Chevy pickup to the Cullen-Mallory residence. She was shocked at the immaculate lawn and freshly painted wooden fence that greeted her.

Prior to the new residents' purchase, the place had belonged to the children of Old Man McCarty, a wealthy recluse rumored to have been a famous poet writing under the name of Jags the Hag. For whatever reason, he let his colonial-style mansion fall to near-ruin. Upon his passing, the family put the property up for auction just to rid themselves of the tax burden.

While being had for a song, the house required extensive repair just to be suitable for inhabitation. Isabella delivered the occasional sympathy arrangement to the house during McCarty's final days and was afraid to approach the front door for fear of falling though the rotten porch.

A completely new façade adorned the now-stately mansion, and Isabella tugged rather self-consciously on the bohemian style skirt she wore. Perhaps she should have dressed more traditionally for this meeting.

She was surprised when Alice Whitlock answered the door. The matronly woman wore an apron over her flower print dress and a warm smile on her lined face.

"Come on in, dear. Ms. Mallory's expecting you."

"Do you work here, Mrs. Whitlock?" Isabella asked.

"Now don't start that again. It's Alice. And yes, Dr. Cullen kindly offered me the job as cook and housekeeper when he found out about Jasper's bad back. Poor old soul couldn't take on as many construction jobs as he used to and finally hired a foreman. Of course, it means another salary on the payroll—a decent one, too—and with that useless son of mine eating us out of house and home…"

Isabella gave her a sympathetic hug. Jake Whitlock was infamous around town as being a drain on his parents. After losing his college scholarship because of drug use, he came home to work for his father. Unfortunately, the boy was lazy and unreliable, and it was easier for Jasper to send him home than try to watch over him on the job.

Jake had asked Isabella out on a date several times, but she always politely declined.

Alice took Isabella's cardigan sweater and hung it up in a coat closet. "Ms. Mallory's in her office. Edward's not home yet, but his hours are variable. That young man is always working, it seems."

As she followed Alice through the house, Isabella marveled at the high-luster marble floors, intricate crown molding, and blatantly expensive decorative pieces. She'd never been in the presence of such opulence in her life and was a bit intimidated. This lifestyle was a far cry from her badly chipped bathtub and creaking wooden floorboards.

Lauren was talking on the phone when Alice knocked on her partially open office door. The attorney motioned for Isabella to have a seat and finished her conversation.

Isabella felt sorry for whoever was on the other end. Lauren castigated, berated, and threatened as she demanded that some filing mistake to be corrected. The young florist cringed when Lauren slammed her palm atop a heavy mahogany desk and ended the call.

"Just a moment," she sighed, massaging her temples as she pushed a button on the phone's base unit. "Alice, please bring me a vodka tonic. Do you want anything to drink, um…?"

"Isabella," she reminded the attorney. "And no, thank you, I'm fine."

"Just the vodka tonic, then. Actually, I'll pick it up on my way." She dropped her hand from her head and stood. "Let me show you where the arrangements will go."

Isabella held out the vase of tulips. "By the way, Ms. Mallory, this is for you. It's both a housewarming gift and a small sample."

"Hmm, understated sophistication…good. You seem to be more competent that you appear."

Isabella kept her expression steady at the dubious compliment and merely nodded. "Thank you."

Lauren accepted the vase and walked out the door, Isabella just behind her. She walked into a large formal living room and pointed out the location for the first arrangement. Isabella snapped some quick photos with her phone and followed her client to a grand, two-story foyer featuring a stunning double staircase and massive chandelier. A circular table stood on the first floor between the arcing steps.

"This is where the main arrangement will go. Obviously, it needs to be large enough to fill the space, yet without detracting from the architectural details. I don't mind if you reuse designs, but I would like at least eight weeks' worth of different selections."

Isabella nodded, her fingers itching to get to a sketchbook and put her ideas to paper.

Lauren raised a finger to her lips in thought. "Would you be able to add a third arrangement? I imagine this must be a large order for you and understand if you're not capable of filling it."

Internally bristling at the remark, Isabella clenched her jaw a few times before answering. "My staff and I are quite able to handle your order, Ms. Mallory. We've provided arrangements for several large weddings and city-wide functions. It won't be a problem."

The blond-haired woman waved a dismissive hand in the air. "Let me know if it gets to be too much. Obviously, the priority is the office arrangement. As long as you're sure, I think it would be a nice touch to have a small, less formal piece at the breakfast table. I'll show you the room."

Lauren pushed open a door to a large, airy kitchen but pulled up so short that Isabella almost collided with her back.

"Edward, I didn't know you were home. You were supposed to call when you left the office so I could have Alice start on dinner."

"Sorry, sweetheart, I forgot. It was a long day, and I just wanted to get out the door."

Isabella peeked around Lauren's petite frame to see a broad-shouldered man in a white Oxford shirt and light blue tie. He was leaning on his elbows and digging through a bowl of fruit on an expansive island countertop.

"Edward, we have a guest in our house. This is Isabella, the girl who owns the local flower shop. She'll be doing the floral arrangements we discussed. Isabella, Dr. Cullen."

Setting down the apple he'd chosen, Dr. Cullen crossed the space between them and offered his hand. "Hi there. Feel free to call me Edward." He turned to Lauren and gave her a swift kiss on the lips. "We talked about floral arrangements?"

"Yes, last week—don't you remember? They're for the house and your office?" she asked in a tight voice with a tight smile. Everything about her was suddenly tense.

He ran long fingers through a mess of bronze-colored hair that, amazingly, did justice to the raving reports the Isabella had heard.

"Must have slipped my mind. Most of my attention is on becoming familiar with my new patients, and I—"

"I'm sure Isabella isn't interested in work concerns and would like to finish up here," Lauren said, cutting him off. She looked at the young woman, who was now studiously examining a painting behind her. "Would you like to take pictures of the breakfast room before you leave?"

"Ah, yes, please." Isabella couldn't wait to escape the awkwardness present in the room. While walking into the breakfast room attached to the kitchen, she swiftly glanced at the doctor. He had joined Alice at the kitchen sink and seemed to be having a quiet, easy conversation with her as he took hearty bites from the large red apple. Alice chuckled at something and nodded her head.

It required only seconds to get her shots, and they departed the kitchen. Lauren winced when the doctor called out a goodbye to Isabella around a mouthful of apple.

"I apologize for Dr. Cullen's rude behavior," she sighed. "He tends to switch off his professionalism at home, even when in the company of guests."

"That's okay, Ms. Mallory. It didn't bother me at all."

"Yes, well…" She took a generous sip from the glass in her hand. "It bothered me."

Although Isabella liked to devote Saturday nights and Sunday mornings to non-work related tasks—even some down time—she started on the Mallory account that evening. The woman's condescending attitude made her determined to show off her best work.

At eight a.m. the following Monday, Alice let her into the Cullen-Mallory residence to place the three arrangements.

"Oh, that's so beautiful!" Alice exclaimed when she saw the massive foyer piece. "And it smells wonderful, too."

"Thank you," she replied. "Is Ms. Mallory in?"

"No, they both leave fairly early in the mornings. She has an hour commute and Edward goes to the gym before work."

"Oh. I was hoping to get her feedback. I want to make sure they're satisfied with the pieces."

"I'm certain they'll be happy. Well, Ms. Mallory will be satisfied with their appropriate elegance, at least," Alice chuckled. "Edward probably won't notice it at all. He's a bit oblivious about those sorts of things."

Isabella had to admit that she wanted to probe Alice to find out more about the curious couple. It was an unusual feeling for her and was quickly squelched. She spent enough time around busy bodies at the shop and didn't want to become one herself.

However, Alice freely offered up a few tidbits as she carried in one of the two arrangements left in the shop's delivery van.

"You'd think the young man would be more pretentious, what with the wall full of certifications and awards that Ms. Mallory had mounted at the office. Once you get him to open up a bit, though, he's as down-to-earth as they come. It surprised me how quickly he's taken to small-town life."

"But not Ms. Mallory," Isabella murmured, forgetting to keep her thoughts internal.

Alice pursed her lips and tried to respond while remaining respectful to her employer. "I have a feeling that Ms. Mallory believes this is a temporary home for them. She implies that Edward is going through some sort of early mid-life crisis and will eventually want to return to a large city."

"But you don't think he will?" Isabella finally gave up the pretense of disinterest.

"He's not said anything to me that indicates his desire either way, but I have a feeling…" she trailed off, then smiled serenely. "I suppose time will tell."

Isabella chatted with Alice about unrelated things for a few more minutes, gave her floral care instructions to prolong the arrangements' vibrancy, and then drove to Meadowland Medical Center. The office opened at nine, and she was to have the arrangement in place before that time, every Monday morning until directed to stop.

She walked to the front door, which was locked, and tapped on the glass. A pleasant-looking elderly woman sitting behind the reception desk nodded and rose to let her in.

"You must be Isabella Swan. I've heard so much about you! Your friend Victoria is my great-niece."

"Great Aunt Dee? The infamous Aunt Dee who gave wedgies to those two high school boys last month because their pants were falling off their behinds?"

"The very same!" She smirked mischievously and enveloped Isabella in a hug after taking the floral arrangement from her. "I'm happy to finally meet you. Victoria keeps saying she needs to bring you along to one of my Girls' Poker Nights so that I can properly corrupt you."

"I don't think that's a good idea, Dee," said a baritone voice to Isabella's right. She turned to see Dr. Cullen walking through the door leading to the exam rooms. His hair was damp, and he wore a broad grin on his face. "This town needs at least one or two respectable people who haven't been tainted by your degenerate mind and bacchanalian ways. Speaking of alcohol, I still think the cup you brought me last Friday had more than just coffee in it. Good morning, Isabella."

She stifled a laugh and nodded. "Hello, Dr. Cullen. I brought the office arrangement. The others have already been taken care of."

She tried to be as vague as possible. It was just a hunch, but based on Alice's description of the man, she imagined he'd appreciate discretion in things that might highlight his markedly higher income.

He seemed to understand her intention and scrubbed his hand across his jaw in a thoughtful manner. "That's great, thank you. I appreciate it." He gave her a friendly smile and then turned to Dee. "I've got my eye on that arrangement. If it turns up missing tomorrow, I'm not going to believe any of your stories about filthy flower fairies stealing them—just like I didn't buy it when crazy cookie creatures got into my lunch that one day."

Isabella chuckled and waved goodbye as she headed out the door. Her own shop opened at ten, and she still had a lot to do before she flipped the sign to "Open."

The next morning, she called Lauren's cell phone and left a message. She asked if the arrangements were acceptable and said she would gladly discuss any changes or preferences for next week's delivery. Lauren never returned her call, so Isabella went ahead on the assumption that her client was pleased.

And so went the Mallory account. Every Monday morning, she dropped off three new arrangements to the house and one to the office. Sometimes she exchanged a few words with Dr. Cullen if he happened to be there, but two months went by before she had any contact with Lauren again.

Her cell phone rang at 6:28 a.m. one Tuesday morning. Isabella was in the greenhouse taking some cuttings when she answered.

"I'm so glad you're awake!" Lauren panted into the phone. It sounded like she was running down a set of stairs. "I need a huge favor, and I'm willing to compensate you for your trouble. I completely forgot that my secretary's birthday is today, and I need to get him a gift. Is there any way you can make up a large arrangement for me that features stargazer lilies? It's ridiculous how much he loves those things. Cute, but ridiculous. Oh, and the color pink! Could you put a lot of pink flowers in it? I need to pick it in thirty minutes. Is that possible?"

Isabella considered it. If she immediately got into her truck…it took about ten minutes to get there…she could pull apart the Thompson order and use that as a base…

"I can do it," she replied, already jogging to the house for her keys and wallet.

Lauren picked up the arrangement at precisely 7 a.m. and gave Isabella a $200 tip that the florist adamantly tried to refuse. From then on, the checks that accompanied the monthly invoice stub had the words "Thank You" written on the Memo line.

It was a Friday evening—a hazy, sticky one in early August—when Dr. Cullen placed his first order. Isabella was about to turn her sign to "Closed" when a black Audi pulled up in front of her store. She unlocked the front door and headed to the counter.

And waited.

After five minutes, Isabella walked to the window and looked out. Dr. Cullen was sitting in the driver's seat and seemed to be staring at the dashboard. When another several minutes passed and he didn't move, she went outside to his car.

He didn't look up as she approached his window, so she tapped lightly on the glass. Dr. Cullen's shoulders jerked in surprise when he turned his head and saw her there. He stared for a few long seconds and then opened the door.

Isabella was startled at his haggard appearance. The usually crisp white shirt he wore was wrinkled, sweat stained, and open at the collar. His loosened tie dangled crookedly from about his neck, and his hair was…well…it had crossed the line from stylishly tousled to disastrously disheveled.

Isabella took one look at his red-rimmed eyes and put a hand on his arm. She led him inside to a chair and proceeded to fill up the tea kettle. While the water heated, cookies and scones were arranged on a ceramic dish. She doubted that he would want any, but it gave her something to do while she waited for him to indicate the reason for his presence.

He still hadn't spoken when she chose a bag of chamomile tea and placed it in his cup of hot water. Not wanting him to feel pressured, she picked up a pair of pruning shears and began snipping wilted leaves from plants located near the table.

The shears were hovering above the flowers in a small white basket when he spoke, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"That…one. Do you think it's good for…a baby girl?"

She looked at the miniature rose plant with its abundance of small pink blooms.

"I think it's a very pretty choice. Mini roses are a bit high-maintenance if they're to be kept indoors, so if you're looking for something a little more forgiving, I have a variety of Cape Primrose that's just as nice. I could transfer them into this basket if you'd like."

He dipped his head enough to signify a nod, and Isabella quickly made the switch.

"You said it's for a baby? I can attach a stuffed bear. The eyes and nose are embroidered, so it's safe for infants. Pink's traditional for a girl, of course, but I also have green, yellow, and—"

She stopped talking at the sound of his choked sob. He dropped his head into his hands and shook it back and forth.

"Doesn't matter if it's safe," he cried softly in between his shuddering breaths. "She'll never see it…never see anything…just so tiny and…no warning…god, their faces…their little girl…"

Isabella pulled a chair close beside his and drew him into a hug. It didn't matter that they were only surface acquaintances, that they had never spoken beyond passing pleasantries. She would have done the same for any human in need of such comfort.

After a while, her arms ached from the weight of supporting his upper body. Her legs were numb due the odd angle at which she sat, and her shirt was soaked in tears. Still, she continued to hold him and would not let go until he was ready. Even when he released an angry yell into her shoulder and startled her, causing her thigh to strike the table, she didn't let go. Tea splashed onto her leg as her mother's favorite cup tumbled off the table edge and shattered on the floor, but she barely noticed. She just kept holding on.

Two days later, Isabella began working on the flowers for Bree Tanner's funeral.

It was always difficult for her to walk into the funeral home, and she usually made her deliveries as hastily as possible. But for once, when she saw the tiny pink casket that would soon serve as the infant's final resting place, she stopped. Setting the flower spray on a nearby table, she closed her eyes and ran her fingers over the smooth satin that covered its frame. It had nearly torn her apart to lose a mother who had been absent much of her life—she couldn't imagine laying her own child to rest. When tears began to stream down her face, she turned and fled to the van.

The simple black dress purchased four years prior was worn to the second funeral Isabella had ever attended. Although not knowing the Tanners personally, she felt connected to their tragic loss through Dr. Cullen's anguish. It was her intent to sit in the back row of the church, as an outsider paying anonymous respects. When she arrived just as the ceremony began, however, the pew was already occupied by a lone man with a bowed head and hunched shoulders.

Dr. Cullen didn't seem surprised when he glanced over to see her sit down beside him. After a nod of acknowledgement, his head returned to its lowered position. He sat frozen and unexpressive until the final prayer, when his body began shudder as if cold. Isabella reached out and took his hand. Letting out a soft sigh, he gave her a weak squeeze with his fingers. She returned the gesture, then released his hand and left.

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><p><strong>Thank you SO much for the incredible response! Hearts and flowers to everyone! I've had a huge goofy smile on my face all day, and it's more than just the madness setting in!<strong>

**Great Aunt Dee is dedicated to our very own DataByteDL - FangirlinGranma (Dee). She swears she doesn't share Aunt Dee's love of the sauce, but I have my doubts... ;)**

**As always, you can get updates and teasers on my Facebook page: /winterhorsesfiction. You can also friend me: Winter Horses. I'm hoping that mean 'ol FB will think the name is Native American and not make me change it!**

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><p><strong>New chapter tomorrow...<strong>


	4. Chapter 4 - The Holiday Season

Chapter 4 - The Holiday Season

Autumn came, resplendent in its colorful beauty.

Isabella went to Victoria and her husband James's house for Thanksgiving. Fifteen family members and one family friend crowded around an antique oak table while a small beagle dog named Milkweed bayed unhappily from the laundry room. He had been banned from the dining room after developing an obsession with Grandpa Peter's festive yellow socks.

After dinner, Great Aunt Dee served up her infamous secret-recipe holiday punch. Isabella thought the drink tasted suspiciously like a Scorpion Bowl. Regardless of its name, she refilled her cup far too many times and, at one point, was found singing campfire songs outside the laundry room door while Milkweed provided background vocals.

Despite having drunk everyone under the table, an effervescent Aunt Dee roused her hung-over family at 5 a.m. for Black Friday in the city. Isabella hadn't planned on accompanying them, but Aunt Dee knew how to work a guilt trip. The shopping excursion proved to be just as long and exhausting as the girl had feared, and at the end of the day, she tried not to lament having a quarter as many bags as the others.

It was the season for cheer.

Orders began pouring into the shop, which took on a distinct pine odor. Isabella had to arrange two extra shipments of boughs after Lauren decided she wanted to drape them over her staircase railings and along the driveway fence line. The entire cargo space of the delivery van was full, top to bottom, when Isabella made her three trips to the mansion. Afterward, she used an entire bottle of olive oil to get the pine sap off her hands, face, and hair.

An invitation to the staff Christmas party at Meadowland Pediatrics was delivered to the flower shop a few days later. The return address named Lauren Mallory as the sender, and "Hope to see you there" was written in decidedly female penmanship.

Isabella was extremely busy and didn't have time to attend a party, but she went anyway. The stress and weariness of the seemingly endless workdays were beginning to take their toll, and she needed a brief respite.

It was a small gathering—a total of eight in attendance—but Aunt Dee had the personality of three people. She added to her legend by bringing a huge piñata and convinced everyone to take a shot of tequila before swinging. Even Lauren joined in on the fun.

The attorney literally let her hair down as she slipped on the blindfold and swung her bat wildly through the air. After three spectacular misses, she handed over the equipment to the next staff member and fell into Dr. Cullen's arms, laughing with abandon. He held her tightly and rained kisses down on her face.

It was only third time Isabella had seen them together, and she soon discovered that Lauren had more than one side to her personality. The young woman smiled wistfully at the couple's obvious mutual adoration. Perhaps one day, she would find someone who made her light up as they did when looking at one other. She hoped that person would be as compassionate, warm, and caring as she knew Dr. Cullen to be.

They hadn't crossed paths many times since the funeral—he usually wasn't near the lobby when she made her weekly deliveries to the office. Neither referenced the past August, but the sincere, grateful smile given at their first meeting afterward conveyed everything he felt. No words of acknowledgement were necessary.

At the party, as the piñata continued to dance on its noose, Dr. Cullen and Lauren conversed with the staff. They both gave Isabella a hug when approaching her during their rounds about the office. Lauren even kissed her cheek and recounted the numerous compliments her arrangements had received in both the office and at home.

The colorful holiday donkey was made of stern stuff, and its attackers continued to take their drinks before each bout. Eventually, the battered, but yet unbroken creature was put out of its misery by a rather intoxicated Dr. Cullen, who had a fair amount of difficulty landing his shots—even without a blindfold.

Isabella spent Christmas Day by herself after declining Victoria's invitation to dinner. She slept in late, took a holiday wreath to her mother's grave, and drank eggnog by her fireplace while listening to holiday music. She didn't want to be alone, but it hurt too much to see Victoria's large, boisterous family again when she had none of her own.

She made up for her anti-social behavior on New Year's Eve. Victoria drove Isabella, James, and two other friends into the city for a very swanky party at a very ritzy hotel. Bedecked in a newly purchased ball gown, Isabella participated in dance after dance with several nice young men. She didn't feel particularly attracted to any of them but had a lovely time, regardless.

An hour to midnight, her small group was surprised to come across Lauren Mallory and Dr. Cullen at the party. Lauren wore a very flattering red gown, but the three women only had eyes for the doctor, who looked incredibly dashing in his tails. After a round of introductions for those who weren't already acquainted, James asked Lauren to the dance floor. Likewise, Dr. Cullen held out his hand to Isabella, whom he knew best of the trio.

She was not surprised to find he was an excellent ballroom dancer. They chatted comfortably as he guided her around the floor.

"Have you had a nice evening so far?" he asked at one point.

"It's been amazing. This is my first time at an event like this, so the whole night has seemed pretty magical to me."

"An event like what?"

"You know, all fancy with expensive champagne and evening gowns and tuxes. Or tails, in your case."

He smiled. "Well, I wouldn't have known otherwise. You look elegantly at ease tonight."

Caught off-guard by the compliment, Isabella needed a moment to answer. "Um, thank you, Dr. Cullen."

He huffed in mock irritation. "The least you can do is call me Edward when we're dancing together—although I'd prefer if you did it all the time. I think it's more than appropriate after I covered your shirt in snot a few months ago."

Isabella's eyes widened at his teasing reference to the breakdown he'd had, but the doctor didn't seem to notice.

"So…are you here with anyone tonight?" he continued. "Maybe that other guy in your group—the dark-haired one?"

"You mean Alex? No, I'm not with him. We came as a group, though I think he has a thing for Heidi."

"Oh." A pause. "I guess…no boyfriend for you, then?"

His rather hesitant tone confused her. "Not at the moment. But Jake's been sniffing around again. I think he's using a war of attrition strategy to convince me that dating him is better than trying to get him off my back all the time." She scoffed. "He's probably right. I should stop avoiding the inevitable."

Dr. Cullen…_Edward..._sucked in a breath. "Are you crazy? I love Alice to death but her son is a waste of perfectly good carbon atoms. Even she—" He broke off upon seeing the playful gleam in her eyes and then rolled his own. "Oh, haha. You got me. I should've known you'd never consider him. He is so far out of your league that he's in a different sport."

Another compliment. Isabella did something unusual for her and blushed a deep pink. She blamed it largely on the four glasses of champagne she'd consumed.

Edward patted her with the hand he had on her back. "Make sure you hold out for the right one. You're too special to settle for anything less."

She was relieved when the dance ended and Edward asked Victoria to the floor. The alcohol was doing a number to her head, and the inherent excitement of the evening wasn't helping. She excused herself to get a breath of outside air and returned just minutes before the countdown began. As soon as the new year arrived and a final glass of champagne had been drunk, Isabella begged off, wished her friends a fun night, and returned to their hotel suite. She couldn't wait to get back to her cozy home and her little flower shop in her small town.

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><p><strong>A change in plans. This chapter wasn't originally a stand-alone, but the editing process is nutty that way. To those whom I had promised something different, I apologize. The next chapter (tomorrow) should have some of the explanations I alluded to! :D<strong>

**Thank you, thank you, a thousand times thank you to the wonderful responses and feedback I've received. H****onestly, now I'm terrified that I might mess this up! I am so ****sorry for not responding to reviews as I usually strive to do...I'm trying to keep the chapters coming. As an FYI, I may seek out a pre-reader/beta, so updates would be every other day-ish.**

**Hugs, kisses, and Scorpion Bowls to you all!**


	5. Chapter 5 - Groundhog Day

**An hour until it's tomorrow for me. Close enough, here ya go! **

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><p>Chapter 5 - Groundhog Day<p>

"Groundhog Day" was a movie Isabella could watch over and over again, appropriately enough. The depicted Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania, seemed very much like her own little town, and she loved the personality transformation of Bill Murray's character, Phil. Stuck in a time loop during which the same day repeated endlessly, Phil eventually decided to use his immortality to better himself and the lives of the people around him. Isabella believed in this positive outlook, but because of the opposite reason. She knew how fleeting time on earth could be.

Every February 2nd, she lugged out an old, extremely heavy CRT television from the storage closet, then placed it on the tea table in order to show the movie throughout the day. Using her laptop would have been much easier, but she preferred having yet another reminder of Renee in her life. The VHS player had been scrapped for an iPod, however, when the cantankerous machine irreverently mangled her movie cassette tape.

Isabella was salivating over Phil's improvisational skills on the piano—she had a weakness for talented musicians—when her door chimes sounded. It was Edward, and he was jubilant.

"Well, hello there, Ms. Isabella," he sang out. "I'm in need of your impressive creative skills on this fine and dandy afternoon."

She let out a chuckle that was very nearly a giggle. "I'd be happy to help. What can I do for you?"

"As it happens, I just found out that my brilliant, hardworking girl landed an account with one of the fastest growing tech companies in the country. She's been stressing over this for so long, and today they signed with her firm."

"That's great!" Isabella exclaimed, already planning a design for what Edward was surely about to ask.

"Sooo, I need some 'Great Job Kicking Ass' flowers to accompany the 'I Know How Much You Love Sparkly Things' bracelet I bought. As you can probably guess, whatever you put together will need to be perfectly posh and enormously expensive."

The amused bark that Isabella emitted was met with a nonchalant shrug.

"What?" Edward asked glibly. "I know the woman's got expensive tastes. Of course, she tries not to be obvious about it…"

Isabella grinned at his sardonic smirk. "I have to admit, you're a very understanding person."

"Not as much as Lauren wants me to be," he laughed, walking over to the tray of baked goods and picking up a brownie. "She's still waiting for me to _understand_ why leaving my lucrative job in the city was the worst mistake I ever made. Also, quite possibly the worst mistake anyone, anywhere ever made."

"She doesn't seem to like it here very much," Isabella said quietly.

A shadow crossed Edward's features as he took a bite of brownie. He thought for a moment before answering. "It's been a point of contention, to say the least. I'm hoping she'll start to come around after a while. Moving here was a compromise so that we could stay together, and I really want it to work out."

"A compromise?"

"I'd already planned to quit working at the hospital; I felt unfulfilled and dissatisfied at such a large institution. My first preference was to join a relief organization like Doctors Without Borders or apply for volunteer pediatric rotations in other countries.

"At the time I came to this conclusion, Lauren and I had been dating for over two years. We'd been talking about living together for a while but were both so busy with work. It seemed easier to stick with the status quo than go through such a significant change.

"We had many long, heated discussions, but in the end, I agreed to stay in the States as long as we moved to a much smaller town. The job opening here matched my desires better than I could have imagined. Now, I feel like I get to make an impact on a personal level—really get to know my patients instead of rushing through office visits like an assembly line. Plus, I love the sense of community, the open spaces, and the easy-going atmosphere in this town. There are certainly many aspects of city living that I miss, like Starbucks, but the tradeoffs are very worth it."

"I think so, too," Isabella agreed, then grinned. "A doctor and a lawyer, though—what a power couple. How did you meet?"

"Set up by our parents, wouldn't you know. They're members at the same country club. Lauren and I were told that we'd be dining as a group and then they conveniently forgot to show. The two of us went ahead and had dinner, hit it off, and here we are."

"Here you are," Isabella repeated absently as she thought about their relationship. "You know, she seemed like a completely different person at the Christmas party. She was really nice." Her eyes suddenly darted to Edward's face, worrying that she'd been rude. "Uh, not that I meant she's not normally…" Isabella trailed off, realizing that was exactly what she had meant.

"Lauren's got a prickly exterior, but she's pretty mushy inside," he said with a knowing smile. "Being a corporate attorney is never easy, and on top of that, she's a female. A stunningly beautiful female, if I do say so myself." He flashed a smug grin. "But, it takes her a while to shed the work persona when the day's over. I don't pay attention to any of her more, um, _pointed_ remarks because that's not who she really is.

"Yes, she _is_ driven, assertive, and confident, but I admire that in her. She's also very smart. We have some amazing discussions about controversial topics, especially ones we're passionate about. Sometimes I think we pick opposite stances just so we can argue about them. The only drawback is that things can get a little, uh, antagonistic sometimes."

He paused. "But, I love how caring she is—always attending charities and promoting important causes." The corner of his mouth twitched up in amusement. "There are times I wish she'd be as generous to me, but I've convinced myself that her constant nagging is just her way of showing concern for my wellbeing."

Isabella snickered at his comment. "Well, if anyone would know, it'd be you."

"Yeah."

His lop-sided grin remained in place, but Isabella thought she could detect a trace of the same shadow in his expression that she'd seen before. They shared an awkward moment, eyes anywhere else but on each other.

"Great movie," Edward noted, gesturing to the TV screen.

"Yes, it is," Isabella agreed. She was relieved for the change of subject.

They watched as Phil professed his love for Rita as the movie neared its end.

"You know, I'm glad she didn't say it back," Edward commented. "That would have ruined her emotional credibility in my eyes."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, even though Phil had spent hundreds or thousands of days with her as time repeated, she would have known him for only two, and he was a complete jerk during the first one. I'd hope she wouldn't say those important words to someone she knew so little about."

Isabella was intrigued. "You don't think people can fall in love that quickly? No love at first sight?"

Edward's brow wrinkled as he hummed, formulating his answer.

"Maybe they can on some physical level, I guess, but I think true love—not counting the nurturing kind—takes longer to develop. How can you _really_ know someone in such a short time? People are so complex, so multi-faceted. It's hard to believe they can show the entirety of their personalities in a few hours or days."

"On top of that," he continued, "I think you can't truly love someone until you've seen his or her bad sides. Everyone, no matter how wonderful that person seems at first blush, has faults. Love has to transcend those."

Isabella frowned. "It sounds like you think love is more of a decision process than a feeling—like you have to take measure of a person, average out the good with the bad, and come to a conclusion."

"Hmm, that's not a bad way of looking at it, _except_ everything happens on a mostly subconscious level. I mean, think of the people who love where they shouldn't, and vice versa. And of course, there are different kinds of love that can extend to different depths. True romantic love is probably the one that happens least."

"Yeah," she murmured, a touch of longing in her voice.

Edward picked up on it immediately. "Isabella," he said quietly. "If it hasn't happened yet for you, that doesn't mean it never well. You're still so young…"

His eyes were focused on her face, and Isabella realized she had never noticed how green they were.

The tinkling of the door chimes preceded the sound of Judy's animated voice. Edward glanced at his watch.

"Shoot! I've got to get back to the office. Would you be able to have something ready for Lauren by six? I'll drop by after work."

Isabella assured him it wouldn't be a problem and watched as he hurried out of the store. Judy and Pearl pulled their chairs away from the table so they wouldn't block the TV set. On the glass screen, the movie started over again.

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><p><strong>A special shout-out to RandyWriter, whose amazing reviews are nearly as long as the chapters themselves!<strong>

**Huge happy hugs to the International House of FanFic for the mention! You ladies have always supported me, and I am so grateful! ficsisters. com**

**Next chapter up on Friday...**


	6. Chapter 6 - Heart of Roses

Chapter 6 - Heart of Roses

Valentine's Day always filled her with a warm glow, and the upcoming one promised to be no exception. Isabella hummed along to now familiar classical melodies as dozens upon dozens of roses were placed in vases and boxes and cellophane wrapping. Her part-time employees stayed busy delivering orders or manning the counter while she created elaborate declarations of love in the back room.

One such arrangement was for Lauren Mallory. Without charging extra, Isabella took the liberty of going beyond the already-expensive price range Edward had paid for. She painstakingly attached tiny pearl beads and crystals to delicate petals. She wove satin ribbon around stems. She plucked, trimmed, and shaped. Every detail was carefully inspected and made perfect. When finished, she took several large steps backward and gazed on the final product. It was one of the best pieces she had ever created.

Her giddy excitement increased when she pulled into the familiar long driveway. Edward had planned to pick up the flowers when he got off for the day at lunch, but she insisted on bringing them over herself in the delivery van. The fragile blooms were sure to be crushed otherwise.

Alice opened the door and gasped when she saw the arrangement.

"Wait, wait!" Isabella cried. "You have to see it in place. Close your eyes for a sec." She hastily set down the flowers on the dark mahogany table that was bathed in sun from the skylights. "Okay, now."

The housekeeper covered her mouth with her hand and stared, speechless.

A multitude of flowers surged and spilled out over the sides of a tall transparent crystal vase. Points of light sparkled on the petals of dendrobium orchids, calla lilies, and stephanotis—each handpicked to display the purest of white. The combined effects resulted in a waterfall of shimmering, billowing snow, with bright red hypericum berries providing pinpoints of contrast.

Nestled at the top this alabaster cascade were several voluminous, brilliant red roses. They were the heart of the piece—physically, figuratively, symbolically. Unadorned, the blossoms stood out from their snowy backdrop with their simple perfection. They wanted, nor needed, any improvement.

"Isabella…"

From behind her, his voice was a whisper, as if anything more would be a sacrilege to the beauty of the sight.

"How did you…I've never seen anything so…it's just perfect, thank you."

Then, as if he couldn't hold back any longer, Edward stepped over to her and lifted her in a crushing hug.

"You, young lady, are incredible!" he exclaimed, setting her back down. "Have you thought about expanding your business—maybe getting investors and opening a shop in the city? Lauren and I would certainly support you. This is just too _amazing_ not to be seen by more people."

She shook her head in a daze, her heart racing from…something. She thought it was most likely the unexpectedness of his actions.

"I like it here, with things simple and quiet."

"Yes, but you're so talented." His tone grew in intensity. "It's almost a waste of your time to be doing corsages for high school dances and generic wrapped bouquets for someone who just remembered his anniversary on the way home from work. You're better than that. So much better."

"I _like_ it here," she said again, heated by an odd flash of anger. "And hello, pot. What are _you_ doing here? If the people in this town are so trivial, then it seems you intentionally took a huge step down. Are you better than this?"

Edward's body appeared to deflate, and Isabella's ire was quickly replaced by embarrassment and shame. Despite their growing friendliness, she'd just chastised a man who, for all intents and purposes, was her boss. On top of that, she felt terrible for acting so childish.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"No, I deserved it," he insisted. "I'm the one who should apologize. I honestly enjoy living and working here. And you should continue doing what makes you happy."

There was an awkward silence, and Isabella glanced around the foyer. At some point, Alice had slipped out of the room. Whether or not it was intentional, Isabella was glad they had the pretense of being alone. The moment was uncomfortable enough as it was.

"Well, I need to get back to the shop. Um, I hope Ms. Mallory likes it."

He glanced at the sparkling display and smiled. "How could anyone not? It's absolutely perfect."

She wasn't sure, but there seemed to be the smallest bit of uncertainty in his eyes.

"Thanks again. Uh, Happy Valentine's Day, Edward."

She reached out for the door handle, but he suddenly appeared in front of her.

"Hold on, Isabella." He ran a nervous hand through his hair. "Truth is…I'm a wreck today. Can you keep a secret?"

Her brown eyes searched his green in bemusement. "Yes, of course."

"Well, I'm anxious and stressed and going out of my mind. It's just that…tonight, well…look."

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small red box. It was opened to reveal a stunning, elaborately-crafted ring swimming in diamonds.

"So? Think she'll…like it? Maybe say yes?" The expression on his face made him look so young, so vulnerable.

Without meaning to, Isabella repeated a line he'd used earlier.

"How could anyone not?" she murmured.

Edward let out a long, slow breath and tucked the ring box back into his jacket.

"I'm taking her out to dinner in the city tonight and figured I'd ask her then, but…I dunno. I can't come up with a way to make it special."

"Asking isn't special enough?"

"Well, you probably know enough of Lauren by now to realize she likes grand gestures, or…something she can impress her family and friends with. I'm not good with stuff like that, but…god, I really want to make her happy." He closed his eyes briefly, then looked at her. "I don't suppose you have any ideas, huh?"

Isabella was quiet for a moment, her thoughts moving slowly. She was reluctant to speak and had no idea why.

"There was something…just a backup plan I had in case it was overcast today, but maybe…"

"What is it?" he asked hopefully.

"Well, I have two spotlights in the van. If had been cloudy, I was going to rig them up so their light shined on the flowers and reflected off the crystals. So maybe...you take her out to dinner tonight, and Alice puts up the lights after you leave. The ring in its open box will sit here…"

Isabella walked over to the arrangement and pointed to a small pocket within the center of the rose cluster.

"Bring her in the front door. It'll be dark except for the spotlights. With all the diamonds on the ring and the crystals on the flowers…with the room looking sort of starlit…you bring her over to the table...get down on one knee…" She trailed off with a sigh.

"Incredible," Edward breathed, awed. "That's not just an idea, that's perfection. You've saved me yet again." He chuckled and then shook his head. "I feel sorry for the poor man who tries to come up with a proposal exceptional enough for _you_."

Her throat felt oddly tight as she looked away from him.

"I told you, I like things simple."

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><p><strong>E-yup, I'm ducking and covering. I know there are many who don't like spoilers, so if you're at all concerned how this is going to end, feel free to shoot me a PM. I'll tell you as little or as much as you want to know!<strong>

**I posted a pic on my FB page of an arrangement that's close to what I had in mind for Isabella's creation. winterhorsesfiction**

**I'm planning to post again tomorrow, so until then...lots of love!**


	7. Chapter 7 - Roller Coasters

**I suck at waiting. Here's another short chapter.**

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><p>Chapter 7 - Roller Coasters<p>

Isabella wished Edward luck on his proposal and drove back to the shop. She said hello to her two busy employees, greeted customers, and chatted with Judy and Pearl for a few minutes. Then she went to the back room and threw herself into work.

By the time the store closed, Isabella decided she was getting sick. It had been very difficult for her to concentrate on what she was doing. Her entire body was stiff, and she had a painful headache. Her eyes kept watering, too. Feeling tired and listless, she went home and climbed straight into bed.

The next day, for the first time since she'd taken over the shop, Isabella didn't go into work. She didn't call in an employee to cover for her, either. The store stayed closed, and she couldn't bring herself to care much. She stayed in bed and slept, eventually turning off her phone when it kept ringing.

The day after that proved just as difficult to face, but she forced herself to go into the shop. Like an automaton, she took care of her daily tasks and interacted with her customers. Several people inquired about her health—she said it was just a minor cold. Judy and Pearl were particularly worried, and after they pestered her for half an hour straight, Isabella called in a relief and went home.

She was lying in bed blinking tiredly at the ceiling when a knock sounded on her door. Briefly, she entertained the thought of ignoring her caller but then wearily pushed herself to her feet. It surprised her greatly to find Edward standing on her porch. He wore a sympathetic smile and had a paper bag in his hand.

"I stopped by the shop yesterday, but it was closed," he explained. "I went again today, and Judy told me you were sick. So, I brought over some doctor-approved chicken noodle soup. Would you like me to make you a bowl?"

Isabella felt light-headed from standing up and leaned against the door frame. "Um, I don't have much of an appetite right now. I'll save it for later. Thanks, though."

"Oh, okay." He paused. "Do you want me to put it in your fridge for you? I could get you some juice or something while I'm there."

He looked so eager to be helpful, but for some reason, Isabella found it irritating.

"I've got it. My place is a kind of a disaster right now. Besides, I don't want to get you sick."

He chuckled. "I get slobbered and hacked on all day by sick kids. I'll take the risk."

"Yeah, well…I'm good for now. Thanks again for bringing over the soup. That was very thoughtful." She just wanted to get her aching body back into bed.

"Sure thing. I guess I'd better get home and…oh, wait! The reason I went to your shop yesterday was to tell you how it went and to thank you. Lauren absolutely loved the flowers, and she told me so…right after she said yes!"

Isabella mustered up as much excitement as possible and forced it into her raspy voice. "That's great. Congratulations. Please tell Ms. Mallory for me, as well."

"Ms. Mallory? Really? I thought we'd already hashed this out. She and I can't be _that_ much older than you. Call her Lauren. We're all friends."

"Um, she's never really said I could—"

"I'm saying," he asserted firmly. "Anyway, I should stop keeping you from bed. I'm half afraid you're going to keel over any second now. Could I help you at all before I go?"

She assured him that she'd be fine, and they said goodbye. Isabella was back in bed and asleep before he made it to his car.

After another day of feeling like death warmed over, she felt her strength begin to return. It took over a week for her body to recover completely. The listlessness, however, didn't go away. Her work, which had always given her a sense of satisfaction, seemed increasingly like a chore as days passed. It was hard to get out of bed in the morning and, after the shop closed, she often found herself taking long drives to nowhere.

During working hours, she had to put effort into keeping up her pleasant demeanor. She accomplished it, for the most part, but sometimes her cheerfulness seemed a forced. Judy and Pearl were the first to notice that something was off. Even if she had an answer, Isabella probably wouldn't have admitted anything was wrong, but she was just as flummoxed as they.

When small, normal setbacks in her day began to annoy her, she made an appointment with her doctor, who took down the symptoms and ordered bloodwork. Other than having lost some weight and being slightly anemic, the tests didn't reveal anything amiss. Dr. Newton prescribed vitamins and suggested she consult a therapist for possible depression.

Isabella had seen one for a few months, after her mother's death. She realized that it was a sound recommendation but couldn't make herself schedule an appointment.

Eventually, Victoria and James staged an intervention. Ignoring her assertions that she was too busy, they dragged her to a small amusement park outside the city. Isabella entered the gates with a blank expression on her face, but after several hours of being strapped into various rides and eating overpriced junk food, she produced some of her first genuine smiles in quite a long time. In fact, she was utterly captivated by the thrill of roller coasters and rode each one at least twice. James started to look green after the first round, but Victoria laughed and screamed beside her the whole day.

It was in the car ride home that Isabella decided she needed to get out more. She'd fallen into a rut and was determined to extricate herself.

And so Bella went out.

Victoria was a more than willing partner, and every other week or so, they made a trip into the city to enjoy its many and diverse offerings. Sometimes they went alone, and sometimes James, Heidi, Alex, or other friends accompanied them. Aunt Dee even took them dancing one night. Remembering the wonderful time she had with Edward on New Year's Eve, Isabella signed up for advanced ballroom dance lessons at the local performing arts center.

She spent more time in town with friends, as well. At least once a week, dinner was shared with friends, either at her house or one of theirs. She even went on a few dates with Jake, who had radically changed his act for the better after being kicked out of his parents' house. They had a good time together, but Isabella soon realized his feelings were stronger than hers. After a particularly difficult conversation, she finally made Jake realize that a romantic relationship between the two of them would never come to pass.

Spring, with its warmer weather and longer days, brought daffodils, tulips, and hyacinths out of hiding in Isabella's front yard. She began to hum again while preparing her morning coffee. The workdays ceased feeling endless, and for the most part, she regained a sense of pride in her creations. The lethargy that had weighed down her mind, body, and soul had nearly dissipated.

But not completely.

She just couldn't understand why something still felt amiss.

* * *

><p><strong>LOVE YOU ALL!<strong>


	8. Chapter 8 - Give and Take

Chapter 8 - Give and Take

Edward interrupted one of Isabella's pensive trances when he hurried into the flower shop on a fine May evening.

"I'm so relieved you're still open!" he exclaimed, rushing over to the cooler containing rose bouquets. "I can't tell you how happy I was to see your lights on from the street."

A quick glance at the clock told her it was thirty minutes past closing.

"Can I help you find something?" she asked, moving to stand beside him.

"Well, I was just going to go with some roses, but…" His whole expression suddenly changed for the worse, and he pulled a hand through his hair. "Dammit! Even a truckload of them wouldn't help. I don't know what I was thinking."

Isabella hated to see him looking so frustrated and anxious. "Do you…want to talk about it?"

His brow furrowed. He studied her for a moment and then sighed. "Actually, yeah. It might help to get an unbiased opinion on this. The ladies at the office, well…not only do they admit to being protective of me, they're also at least twenty years older. You're much closer in that department."

"Not by much," Isabella said, wondering why she felt so unhappy about the large age gap between them.

"Hey, how old are you anyway? I'm not even going to guess—I've learned my lesson when it comes to that. Age and weight, two topics men should never go near."

His easy grin brought a similar one to her face.

"I'm 25. My birthday's in September."

"Hmm, not quite eight years' difference between you two." He shrugged. "Whatever, close enough."

"For what?"

"For giving me some insight into the mysterious female mind. Do you want to sit? This could take a few minutes."

When they neared the worn table, Edward stared at it, suddenly lost in a daze of his own. Isabella took her seat, giving him a questioning glance. He closed his eyes briefly and shook his head.

"I never told you just how much you helped that night." His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. "As a pediatrician, I never expected to lose a patient like that—immediately, tragically, right in front of me. God, it's horrible enough when I see signs of a disease and have to prepare a family to see a specialist. But then..._it_ happened, and afterward, I…I just…couldn't…"

Edward closed his eyes once again, releasing a slow breath.

"Thank you, so much." His hand reached out and squeezed her arm.

At his touch, their gazes met and held. Sincerity and warmth, appreciation and trust—they were all present in the cloudless green. Isabella's heart rate began to quicken. She felt something unfamiliar, something strange, and it made her uncomfortable.

She shifted in her seat and looked away to end the moment.

"So, what's going on?"

His scowl came back at once. "Lauren and I are in the middle of a...disagreement," he said, dropping down in a chair.

"Ah. Hence the roses."

"Exactly. But, the thing is, I don't feel I'm being unreasonable and obstinate...or whatever her latest adjective is. Why aren't my reasons just as valid as hers, you know?"

"What's the argument about?"

He groaned. "More than one thing. First of all, she wants to have a destination wedding. Somewhere tropical, like the Virgin Islands."

"Wow, that's…that's…"

"Yeah. I mean, I don't have a problem with the idea, in general, but I don't think it's right for us. To start, we can't take a lot of time off from work. We're both pushing it to be gone a week as it is. I was hoping to spend that solely on a honeymoon—just relaxing and enjoying our first days as newlyweds. If we go down to the Islands, so much time is going to be eaten up by travel and wedding preparation. We'd be lucky to get two full days to ourselves."

Isabella nodded to show she was following. She also happened to agree with his reasoning but waited to hear the rest.

"Then, of course, there's the matter of attendees," he continued. "My parents would also find it hard to take off that long, Lauren's mom hates flying, and her dad's health isn't the best. He probably wouldn't be able to make the trip. Most of our friends with have the same issue with work schedules or wouldn't be able to afford it. We could foot the bill for the bridal party, but I'd much rather save that money for something else, like future kids' college tuition or whatever. Which leads us to an unrelated but more important issue."

"Children?" Isabella guessed.

"Yeah. It's probably redundant to say this, but I love kids. I'm an only child and have always wanted a big family. I'd already given up on that idea because of our ages—Lauren just turned 34—but is one all that unreasonable?"

Isabella wasn't sure if that was a rhetorical question, but Edward let his head fall into his hands and groaned again.

"As a man, I know it's easy enough for me to say, when she'll be the one carrying a baby. And besides the physical impact, discrimination is still alive and well, especially in her field. I have no doubt Lauren is up to the task of being a working mother, but some of her peers and clients wouldn't feel the same way.

"She said she's open to adoption, and I would love to do that as well, but...is it wrong for me to want a child or two that I helped create? I guess...I don't know. She's right about there being so many kids out there who desperately need a family. And now that she's beginning to establish a name for herself at work..."

"Wow, that's a rather…fundamental issue," Isabella said.

"You could say that," he agreed dryly. "I mean, I love her, obviously, but this...this is a big deal. We've talked about it before, and while she was never as enthusiastic as I was..._am..._we were on the same page about having a family. According to her, she didn't start thinking differently until a few weeks ago, after snagging the Meyers-Glidden account. The senior partners took notice, and there's a rumor at the office that she's being groomed for an associate position in a few years.

"She's so excited—god, her face just lights up when she talks about it—but now she's staying at the office later than ever, wanting to make sure her work is above reproach. I mean, we hardly see each other these days. I hate being alone in that big house. It's too quiet, and...I'm fairly certain Jag's ghost is haunting the place."

He crossed his arms, and despite the seriousness of the topic, Isabella wanted to chuckle at the exaggerated pout on his face. At that moment, he looked more like a petulant child than an educated doctor in his mid-thirties. She pushed the light-hearted thought away and considered his difficulties.

"Well, I'm probably not the best person to give relationship advice, but it seems to me you both need to figure out where you truly stand on each matter, what your limits are," she mused out loud. "Do you know which issues you wouldn't be able to…compromise on? What about her?"

He stared at the table's smooth patina for a moment, thinking, then nodded approvingly. "That's a really good question. I guess when it comes down to it, I'd give into the wedding location thing if she couldn't get married without it. I wouldn't be thrilled, of course, and would be more than a little concerned if she wouldn't marry me because of that." He shook his head vigorously. "No, we'll be able to work it out. Maybe still have a destination wedding but do it closer to home, like Hawaii or something.

"As far as any deal-breakers she might have...I don't know. She's mentioned moving closer to the city, and while I adore this town, she has a point about the commute. Hers is an hour, mine is five to six minutes. If we found a place somewhere in between, we'd have more time together." Edward frowned. "At least, I hope."

"Any, uh, 'deal-breakers' for you?" She tried to keep her voice neutral despite the curiosity she felt.

"Aside from cheating, I guess…well, I don't know. I keep coming back to the family issue, and I just don't know. _Shit_." He scrubbed a hand over his face several times. "Sometimes I wonder if we've changed over the past four years. Or maybe we're finding out that we don't know each other as well as we thought. Could we've have just been seeing what we wanted and ignoring the rest?"

Isabella was completely out of her depth. She said they only thing that came to mind. "Maybe if you two discuss what your respective, um, boundaries are, you'll have a better idea how well you really know each other?" She shook her head at her woeful lack of relationship experience. "I'm probably not the best person to talk to about these things. I'm sorry I haven't been able to help you."

"No, you have," he insisted, taking a deep breath and letting it out quickly. "I feel a lot less anxious than when I came in—my thoughts aren't as jumbled, and you've suggested a great first step for Lauren and me to take in working through our difficulties. You've made things so much better." A pause. "You always seem to make things better."

Once again, they looked at each other, and Isabella experienced that strange, unidentifiable sensation. She stared at him in a daze, trying to understand.

Edward was the one to finally break their connection. He chuckled in an awkward manner and brushed a bit of wayward hair from his forehead.

"Are you sure you're only 25? How'd you get to be so smart, anyway?"

She almost shrugged off his compliment, but something made her answer honestly. "It was my mom, I guess."

His eyes softened. "I heard about…what happened. I'm so sorry. It sounds like she was an amazing woman. I wish I could have met her."

"Yeah, she was amazing—and fun and bright and irresponsible and forgetful. Not perfect by any measure, but wonderful all the same."

"How big of a change was this place for you? I heard you were in college before you came here…"

Isabella began to talk about her early days in town, when her mom was still fairly energetic despite the chemotherapy. She told him about the crazy wigs Renee wore and the strange craving for Sour Patch Kids that developed after one particularly difficult course of treatment. He asked how hard it had been for her to take over the business and if she had always been artistic.

The conversation topic strayed to her childhood, then his childhood, her father, his parents…

"My dad's so laid back that, if I didn't know better, I'd swear he was high all the time," Edward laughed at one point. "His friends say he used to be that way in the Emergency Room—cool and calm, even in the most dire situations. Now he spends most of his time in the classroom teaching medical students. As for my mom, well, she tends to be a little more, um, intense. But as the Director of Operations of a hospital, she needs to be hard-assed sometimes."

"Wow, a whole family in the medical field," said Isabella, awed. "Talk about intimidating."

"Oh, come on. Surely you don't find _me_ scary, right?" Edward reached over and nudged her arm playfully. "My parents aren't either, especially not my dad. Okay, Mom can be downright terrifying if you piss her off, but not many people make that mistake more than once." Chuckling, he stretched his arms over his head and glanced at his watch.

"Wow, we've been talking for an hour and a half. Alice is going to mad that she had to wrap up my dinner again. I swear, that woman clucks over me like a mother hen."

"It's really that late?" Isabella said, surprised by how quickly the time had passed.

"Yup. I'd better get out of here. Five comes way too early in the morning for me." He stood and stretched again. "You know, my parents are planning to visit next weekend. I'll bring them by the shop so they can meet you."

"Oh?"

"Sure. The first time they came to town, I hadn't gotten to know anyone well yet. So they haven't met my friends here, and I'd love to introduce you."

"Oh, um, okay," she said. Her stomach felt odd, and she wondered if she was coming down with something again.

They walked to the door and said goodbye. She watched as he climbed into his car and drove away.

Isabella stood in that spot for quite some time, staring out into the night and thinking.

* * *

><p><strong>So who's still with me? For those of you who didn't already PM me, YES, this is an ExB fic, lol. That's all I'll say. If you want to know more, you know how to reach me. ;) *hugs*<strong>

**I want to give a crazy big goodbye to my crazy little chicken, Queen Rosie (Cullen), who was snatched up yesterday by a beautiful but currently-despised hawk. I called her Queen Rosie 'cause she was brave and in your face, squawking her fool head off. Dumb hawk. :(**

**ps-Just stuck a pic of Queen Rosie on FB.**


	9. Chapter 9 - Sense and Sensibility

Chapter 9 - Sense and Sensibility

Dr. Carlisle Cullen was indeed a very easy-going person. He ambled into the flower shop and gazed around the store as if standing in the midst of a serene meadow, simply enjoying the view. When introduced to Isabella, he gave her a warm smile and clasped her hand in both of his.

By contrast, Mrs. Esme Cullen exuded authoritative confidence and charisma. Everything about her exceeded the profile of a person in a leadership position: her bespoke business suit, the perceptively intelligent gleam in her hazel eyes, the firm yet politely detached way she shook Isabella's hand.

However, she didn't act as if Isabella's modest business was lacking, nor would the florist have cared if she did. Isabella was mightily proud of her store and preferred it over any other.

The walking tour finished quickly, but Isabella regaled the group with tales of the building's history. She explained that it was constructed in the late 1800s and first served as the town's general store. She pointed out the original shelves, still on the wall, which had borne spice bins, food jars, and cleaning supplies. Some of her hanging plants were suspended from hooks designed to hold horse collars and farming tools over a hundred years ago.

Afterward, Dr. Cullen and his son worked on putting a dent in the tray of baked goods while Mrs. Cullen asked questions about the business aspect of the shop. Her tone was brusque, her questions pointed, but Isabella was happy to discuss the details. Even though the florist dealt with relatively small numbers on all fronts, in line with the town's population, she still offered web-based ordering and was affiliated with wire services like Telaflora and FTD. She promoted sales and offered coupons through social media and sponsored a youth soccer team. Isabella was not at all ashamed of the way she ran her business.

When Edward and his parents finally left, Isabella heaved a sigh of relief. As nice as Dr. Cullen was, his wife was about as warm as a blast of Arctic air. She wasn't rude or hostile, just…impersonal.

Isabella hurried over to Victoria's house the minute work was over.

"So, how'd the meeting with the parents go?" the redhead asked, sipping on wine. "How was Edward? Did he look miserable? Broken? Like his relationship was falling apart?"

"It's only been a few days, and already I'm sorry I said anything to you," Isabella sighed. "I told you—I don't _want_ him to be miserable and broken. Who wishes that on someone she cares about? He should be happy."

"What a load," her friend scoffed. "You're saying you'd rather them figure out a way to work through their differences than to find out she's a cheating, lying whore? I'll bet that she is."

"Knock it off, Vic," Isabella warned. "You know how I feel about people starting rumors. Especially when they make up stories based on absolutely nothing."

"The woman's working her way up the ladder, they're fighting, she stays late at the office." Victoria shrugged. "You do the math."

"Why does everyone assume the worst? Lauren's not the sweetest person in the world, but that doesn't mean she's the spawn of Satan, off on an amoral bender."

Victoria rolled her eyes. "Calm down, hon, and drink your damn wine. Whose side are you on, anyway? I thought you'd just realized you had 'feelings' for him, or whatever passionless word you used to describe it."

Isabella looked at her friend, chastisement strong in her expression.

"Okay, that was a little harsh of me," the redhead admitted. "I just want you to get fired up and go after this man. Flirt a little, show him you're interested—do anything but give him helpful relationship advice!"

"I'm not going to 'go after' an engaged man living with his fiancé whom he's been with for four years. It's not something I can do—not who I am. You should know that by now."

"But…come on, he's the first guy you've liked since Ben! You can't just sit back and let him marry this harpy bitch who is totally wrong for him."

"I doubt I have much of a say in it," Isabella replied sardonically. "Besides, I'd like to think I have a little pride. I'm not going to throw myself at him and hope that I can lure him away from someone he obviously loves. Or swoop in once his relationship starts to go south. I'd rather not be someone's second best or consolation prize."

"No, you'd rather be a spineless wuss," Victoria muttered, downing the rest of her wine.

Angered, Isabella got to her feet and glared down at her friend. "Do you think it's _easy_ for me to listen to him sound so frustrated and upset? That I _like_ to help talk through his problems in a calm, logical way? Ever since last week, when it finally hit me, I feel like there's this damned anvil sitting on my heart. It constantly weighs me down, and every time he talks about her, it's a hammer strike to the top.

"He stopped by again several evenings ago—told me he was looking forward to seeing his parents. I had to hear about his disappointment in Lauren's inability to leave work early and meet them at the airport. And _yes_, for your information, he did look pretty miserable about their most recent failure to see eye-to-eye. I'm sure he'd be thrilled to know you're enjoying his pain."

"Eh. If he's stupid enough to be with her…"

Isabella gaped at Victoria and her disdainful smirk. Incredulity mixed with resentment, and she nearly wanted to yell at the smug girl. But when Victoria winked, Isabella let out her held breath with a huff and snagged a pillow from a nearby armchair. She hurled it at her friend's head.

"_You're_ the bitch," she declared, then tumbled onto the couch beside Victoria, laughing.

* * *

><p><strong>ps-I personally agree with some of Vic's arguments. But I'm not Isabella. ;)<strong>


	10. Chapter 10 - Devotion

Chapter 10 - Devotion

"Wow," Dr. Edward Cullen gasped, doubled over, "That's quite the soccer kick, young man."

Three-year-old Emmett McCarty bestowed an angelic smile on his nemesis and then turned to his mother.

"I wanna go now, Mommy. I want my cupcake."

"Oh god, Dr. Cullen, I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" The frazzled blond woman started to put a hand on Edward's shoulder but had to whip around and catch her son as he leaped off the exam bed.

"Now, Mommy, now! I wanna go now!"

"Shh, pumpkin. We just have a few more minutes. Then you can have your cupcake. But first you need to say sorry to Dr. Cullen." She glanced in embarrassment at the ashen-faced doctor who was slowly straightening up.

"No! I hate him. He's stupid."

"Emmett, honey, those aren't nice words. You need to say sorry."

"Stupid, stupid, stupid!"

The little boy writhed in his mother's grasp, trying to free himself. Edward was careful to stay far away from the flailing arms and legs. One kick in the groin was more than enough.

"Well, Mrs. McCarty," he said over the din, "I've completed my exam. As we discussed, his height and weight are in the 95th percentile again, so he's tracking along nicely. Do you have any questions for me?"

"No, everything's…sweetie, that hurts Mommy…I think I'm all set. I'm so sorry he's in such a mood today. He woke up in the middle of the night when Dave came home from…uh, he worked late and…"

"No worries, Mrs. McCarty," Edward interrupted smoothly. "All children have their off days. Nurse Charlotte will be in shortly to give Emmett his immunizations."

He managed a weak smile and left the room, leaving just as the boy flung a magazine in his direction.

Charlotte Davidson heard the muted thump and cringed. "This is going to be fun."

Edward looked up from his next chart in sympathy. "His mom said he didn't get much sleep. Dad came home late…"

"Oh, I see. Poor boy. I feel so bad for Momma," the white-haired nurse sighed.

Everyone in town knew of Dave McCarty's drinking problem. He'd been arrested more than once for public intoxication. The man was a happy drunk, but a loud and clumsy one. After receiving money from the sale of his grandfather's estate, he'd wasted half of it on frivolous purchases and the other half in casinos. His family was surviving financially, but only because of his wife's income as a clerk at the grocery store.

Edward shook his head as he made his way to the next exam room. He hated how children were affected by their parents' mistakes.

Not that he'd had personal experience with that. His mom and dad had done a fine job, he thought. Sure, his dad had been more interested in having fun with his son than instilling any sort of discipline, but Esme Cullen had picked up his slack. And then some.

She raised Edward to be a hard-working, well-mannered, respectful man with a strong set of morals. He was afforded the best educational opportunities and, although having a substantial trust fund, was taught the value of earning one's own way. The only thing Esme couldn't cultivate in her son was the same ambition and desire for conventional success that she possessed.

Goodness knows she'd tried. Every motivational technique she'd ever learned, and some she made up out of desperation, failed to inspire Edward to want more, to want to _be_ more. He simply had too much of his father in him. And didn't consider that a bad thing.

Dr. Carlisle Cullen was happy. He loved his wife, his son, his job, his home—his life. He enjoyed a prestigious position as Director of Emergency Medicine Education at a medical school, which allowed him to devote more time to shaping educational programs for upcoming ER attending physicians, than to pushing fingers inside a teenager's bullet would to stop him from dying on his table. He still had weekly shifts at the teaching hospital—it was a requirement for staff—but was glad to hang up his stethoscope as often as he could. Being an ER doctor took its toll, and Dr. Cullen had paid his in full.

He was an outstanding professor but recognized he would not have his position in education had it not been for his wife. She had pinpointed the cause behind his vague feeling of dissatisfaction on the hospital floor, convinced him that he needed a change, sought out an appropriate opportunity, and all but met with the school's Dean for him. Despite his wonderful qualities, Dr. Cullen could be rather oblivious and complacent at times.

Edward knew that his mother was the driving force in his parents' marriage. But although she was a formidable woman, she could also act like a lovesick schoolgirl. Some of Edward's fondest memories as a child were of his father throwing her over his shoulder and spinning her in circles like the blades of a helicopter or chasing her around the house with water balloons. He saw how his parents loved and complemented each other, and he wanted desperately to find the same thing.

There wasn't much to tell about his love life through his years in school and residency. Occasionally, he went on dates, even had a few girlfriends, but his main focus was on becoming certified. If he ever found himself with a few free hours on hand—a rare occurrence—his choice of activity was to catch up on sleep.

Establishing a relationship with Lauren was easy. At the end of their first faux date, he didn't ask to see her again. She simply gave him the day, time, and place for their next encounter, and that was that. No muss, no fuss.

He thought he'd been lucky enough to repeat his father's success in finding a partner. Lauren would be in charge of keeping the relationship on track, and his role would be to love and support her unconditionally. In his mind, they were a perfect match.

Two years went by, and Edward waited for that glowing adoration in his father's eyes to develop in his own. But with his long hours and Lauren's hectic schedule, they didn't have time to nurture their relationship. Edward became increasingly unhappy with his job at the hospital, so when they worked out the compromise to leave the city, he felt his life was moving in the right direction, for once. With a slower pace and more time at home, he would be able to devote his energy to making Lauren smile the carefree grins he loved but so rarely saw. He wanted to take care of her like she watched after him.

When their relationship stayed stagnant, Edward decided he needed to buckle down and try harder. His mother often said that one of the biggest reasons for failure was a lack of blood, sweat, and tears. Of course, she also warned of not recognizing when it was time to cut losses and move on, but he hadn't paid as much attention to that part.

He bought Lauren gifts, took her on dates in the city, and when they started enjoying each other's time more than ever, he proposed.

It was concurrently one of the most exciting, meaningful, yet disappointing moments of his life when she finally accepted. He was thrilled that she said yes, eager for the next step toward his idea of happiness, but worried that Lauren had taken far too many long, silent seconds to answer. It wasn't the "speechless from elation and shock" kind of silence, either. He could see her weighing the choice in her mind, and that concerned him. It was also a blow to his heart.

That's when everything he believed about love and devotion, everything he thought he knew, was thrown into question.

He tried to take an objective view of his relationship, see with impartial eyes, but it was impossible to separate himself from his feelings. So, as discreetly as possible, he tried to get the opinion of others.

Either he wasn't very subtle or those approached had been eager for the opportunity to give him advice.

"You're a very nice young man, Dr. Cullen," said Charlotte, carefully. "Maybe a little _too_ nice, sometimes, and I don't think you realize how...tolerant you are of things that would and should bother other people. Ms. Mallory appears to be somewhat, uh, challenging at times."

Edward's friend and fellow doctor, Joe Synder, just shrugged. "You seem to get along well enough, and if it doesn't work out, there's always divorce. Have a good pre-nup, though. I learned that mistake the hard way."

Aunt Dee didn't beat around the bush when it came to expressing herself. "I've said it before, and I'll say it again: the two of you together make as much sense as tits on a turtle. You're not getting any younger, and your Grade A swimmers are going to waste. Find yourself a nice local girl and start crankin' out beautiful, smart babies. I can get you a date for the weekend."

Meanwhile, Lauren's workload was increasing, and they spent less time together than ever.

"Come on, Lar, you've been reviewing the contract since six this morning, and it's a Sunday. How 'bout you take a few hours' break?" Edward was sitting on an armchair in her home office and tossing a baseball in the air. "We can go out for lunch, maybe catch a movie afterward. I'll even suffer through a chick flick if you want."

"I told you, this merger is worth tens of millions. There can't be a single typo when I submit it to the partners for review." She didn't look up from her laptop.

Edward squeezed the ball in his hand and tried to quell his frustration. "We haven't gone out since Valentines', and that was six weeks ago. I feel like I see you less than I did my med school roommate, and he all but showered in the library. When are you going to have time for us?"

Lauren let out a sigh and sat back in her chair. "I'm sorry. It's just that I need to keep up with the other staff attorneys. They all live in the city and are available to go into the office at a moment's notice. My work needs to be flawless so that I won't get called in to fix a mistake."

Edward winced at the implication of her statement. Lauren heaved another sigh.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to start that argument again. I was just answering your question truthfully. I promised I wouldn't bring up moving for the rest of the year. We'll see how things are, then." She glanced at the wall clock. "I guess I could take an hour off to grab lunch out."

"No, forget it. That just means you'll be up an hour later tonight, and you hardly get any sleep as it is." He stood up. "I'll go for a run or something. Do you want me to bring in a sandwich later?"

"That'd be perfect," she replied, already staring at the screen again. "Just remember to use the regular mustard instead of that spicy shit, okay?"

"Yeah, sure," he muttered as he left her to her work.

Their difficulties escalated through the month of April and into May.

"What the hell?" Edward exclaimed one evening. "You got a contraceptive implant? It lasts for _three years_?" The beef on his fork froze in the air, halfway to his mouth.

"It's completely reversible. I don't understand why you're so upset."

"Well, it's just that...I was sort of hoping, once we got married...or even sooner..."

"Edward, I..." Lauren bit her lip and looked across the dinner table. "I'm not sure if I want to have kids anymore."

The utensil dropped from his hand and clattered on the tabletop. "What?" he whispered.

They talked and argued and yelled for over an hour. Lauren finally announced that Edward was banished from the bedroom and then shut herself in her office. At bedtime, he paced the floor of the guest room and tried to make sense of his shattered dreams. It was difficult to hold his own tears at bay as he listened to her muffled sobs long into the night.


	11. Chapter 11 - Assumptions

Chapter 11 - Assumptions

The first time Edward saw Isabella Swan, she was entering his kitchen in a flowing beaded skirt and ponytail. He thought she looked sweet and kind and breathtakingly beautiful. Then he felt ashamed for staring at such a young girl.

He didn't begin to piece together her identity until after her initial flower delivery to his office, and even then, he had it wrong.

"Swan," he mused aloud. "Isn't that the owner's name? How strange—someone told me the woman was young."

"How much younger do you want?" Aunt Dee asked, printing out the day's appointment schedule.

He frowned. "But if she's got a teenage daughter…"

Aunt Dee let out a hearty laugh. "No, that girl _was_ the owner. I think Vicky said Isabella was in her early 20s."

"Oh."

He only saw her a few more times over the next four months, in the office when she made her deliveries, but heard plenty about her. Through Aunt Dee's idle chatter, he learned that she had donated a box of bud vases to the nursing home two years ago and sent fresh flowers every week for the staff to put into each resident's vase. He was told that she provided a bouquet for a young bride who married her groom at the court because they couldn't afford a traditional wedding. Alice once asked for a day off so that she could help Isabella with the bake sale portion of her yearly Flower Friday event. Every dollar made that day would be donated to cancer research. And on one occasion, even Lauren raved about the florist after she went out of her way to accommodate an order request. Lauren never raved about anything.

The day Bree Tanner died was the worst of his life. Her mother brought the weak, vomiting baby into the office, and Edward was conducting a routine exam when Bree began seizing. He grabbed the 8-week-old infant in his arms, ran out the office's front door, and sprinted for the emergency room around the corner. But she passed before he could get there, victim of a rare pediatric aneurysm.

When he finally left the medical center that day, his mind was clouded by a dense fog. In retrospect, he shouldn't have been driving, as he didn't realize he'd stopped at the flower shop until Isabella tapped on his window. Part of him must have been anxious to regain control by _doing_ something, and his long-ingrained sense of etiquette took over. If someone experienced a loss, send a card and flowers. To do that, he needed to go to a flower shop.

While he had been told Isabella was an amazingly kindhearted person, had heard some of the stories, Edward didn't truly understand the depth of her caring until that night. She was a pillar of support and held him up in his darkest moment. And when he was on the verge of breaking down at the funeral, she strengthened him once more.

He felt awkward seeing Isabella afterward. Edward wasn't ashamed of becoming emotional or crying, in general, but doing those things on the shoulder of someone he hardly knew was somewhat embarrassing.

He started going to the office a little later on Mondays in hopes of avoiding her. They never crossed paths out in town, so the first time he had to interact with her was at the staff Christmas party. He had been surprised to see her there; Lauren hadn't mentioned sending an invitation.

Used to seeing her in jeans, he was again struck by her youthful beauty when she arrived wearing a simple red dress. His reaction concerned him, so he slammed a mental door shut on any inappropriate thoughts and focused all his attention on Lauren, who was enjoying herself immensely. She'd always had a weakness for good tequila.

At the New Year's Eve party, Edward found himself in a difficult position. Isabella looked so different in her satiny dark blue evening gown and makeup that he almost didn't recognize her. When James took Lauren to the dance floor, Edward instinctively knew it would be a bad idea for him to ask Isabella. Yet the words were out of his mouth and his hand on the soft, pale expanse of her bare shoulder before his brain could catch up.

Though he could tell she was a novice ballroom dancer, Isabella followed his lead easily and gracefully. His gaze kept settling on her face and those large, expressive brown eyes. He could see the wonder and excitement in them, and it brought about the same reactions in him. Edward recognized what a rare individual she was—sweet, unspoiled, and _good_.

He shouldn't have asked about her romantic interests—not only was it none of his business, it was also rather inappropriate—but again, his mouth moved on its own. His resultant feelings were mixed over her single status. He was glad she wasn't wasting her time on idle boys like Jake Whitlock, but also felt the need to know someone was looking after her. It wasn't that she required such a thing, of course, but that she deserved to be cared for the way she did for others.

For this the reason, he hurried to her house upon learning about her illness. She had been there for him so many times, including two days previous with her brilliant idea for a proposal, and he relished the opportunity to even the score, if only by a little. It frustrated him that she turned down his offers of assistance, especially when she looked so ill and fragile.

Later thinking back over all their one-sided interactions, however, he realized she had never sought him out, never initiated a conversation. Perhaps the refusal of help was her way of telling him that theirs was nothing more than a polite business acquaintance—and not the developing friendship he had imagined.

Edward didn't want to impose on her and so kept his distance after that, both physically and emotionally. On the few Monday mornings they happened to be near the reception desk at the same time, he gave her a simple greeting and walked away. It seemed to him that she continued to look ill, that the spark was absent from her eyes, but he put the thought from his mind. She'd made it rather clear that her health wasn't his concern.

And as it happened, he had his own difficulties with which to contend.

The morning after his argument over Lauren's change of heart regarding children, Edward felt wretched. In his shock and disappointment, he had said some hurtful things during their heated discussion and insinuated several others. He wanted to apologize, to assure her that he really never thought she'd been lying to him all along, or that her feelings proved she was just as shallow as her desire for a tropical wedding.

But Lauren had left for work before he even woke.

Aunt Dee could tell something was wrong with the doctor as soon as she laid eyes on him. She tried getting him to open up and talk to her, but he was too ashamed of his behavior and too hurt by Lauren's admission. He also realized that work was not the best place to air his personal problems.

Despite his silence, Aunt Dee managed to figure it out. Edward was working in his office when she knocked on the door.

"Well, honey, I'm heading out of here…unless you want to sit in my lap and tell me what's wrong."

He frowned. "It's five thirty already?"

"That it is. Charlotte's just about to head out. Don't forget that Angela will be in for me tomorrow."

"Oh, right. Well, have a good evening, Dee. Thanks."

Edward turned back to the computer screen but looked up when Aunt Dee didn't leave.

"You and Lauren are arguing again," she stated matter-of-factly. "Do I need to kick some skinny-girl ass for you? Chief Brown's wife is my poker buddy, so I won't face charges."

"No. I'm the one that was the jackass last night," he replied with a sad shake of his head.

"I can't imagine that you were unprovoked, but…" she leveled a shrewd gaze at him, "if you're determined to beat yourself up about it, the least you can do is get the poor dear some flowers."

Edward narrowed his eyes. He'd heard that deviously innocent tone before. "Dee…what are you up to?"

"Nothing at all. I'm too old and senile to dream up schemes." She ignored Edward's sarcastic snort. "Just trying to be helpful. Get her some roses, grovel for forgiveness—you know the drill."

"Maybe. But I still think you're up to something."

After Aunt Dee left, he received a phone call from his mother. She announced that, due to a last minute change of schedule, she and his father had a rare free weekend. They would be coming to visit.

Edward didn't bother with useless protesting. He just groaned loudly when the call ended and rubbed his temples. Lauren always panicked on the days leading up to an in-law visit, and this time, she'd only have a week's notice to "prepare" for their arrival. If things were rocky between them before, all hell would break loose when he told her the news.

He was mulling over the latest issue when his text message alert sounded. Lauren had written to say she would be spending the night in the city.

_Shit_, Edward thought bleakly.

He knew exactly what that meant—it had happened twice before, all within the past month. Lauren would be going out with her secretary, probably to a gay club, where he would troll for men and she would get plastered. If Marcus got lucky, he'd put her up in a hotel. If not, she'd stay at his apartment.

Every time he slept alone, Edward could sense they were growing farther apart. But he refused to see the writing on the wall—everything in him demanded he not give up.

Aunt Dee's suggestion of flowers was a good place to start, he decided. He shut down his computer and got his keys from the desk, then noticed the time. The shop had just closed.

He was driving home slowly, feeling spiritless and listening to his secret indulgence of angry white boy music, when he saw the lights on inside the flower shop. A spark of excitement chased away some of his gloom, and for the first time in a while, he felt hopeful. It wasn't clear to him how buying flowers for Lauren was going to solve anything, but he didn't care. He just followed the feeling into the Isabella's store.

* * *

><p><strong>Big sloppy kisses to Midnight Cougar at The Lemonade Stand for the rec! If you've just come over from there, welcome! tehlemonadestand. blogspot. com.<strong>

**With the Thanksgiving Day holiday coming up, I probably won't be able to post until Sunday or next Monday. Trust me, I'd much rather be writing than getting ready for a lot of driving time in yucky traffic! :P**

**HAPPY THANKSGIVING!**


	12. Chapter 12 - Time to Talk

**Surprise! Thank Winter Storm Cato for the update. Our travel plans were pushed back a day, so I got to procrastinate on packing by writing. :)**

**I messed up my storyline when I added the EPOV, and I'm sorry that it's confusing! I know how I want to rework it but don't want to muddle things up even more by going back and moving chapters around. **

**So to put things in order:**

**- Edward finds out about Lauren's implant, she drops the "no kids" bomb.**

**- Next day (Friday), Aunt Dee suggests he go to the flower shop (last chapter), ****E and Isa talk about destination wedding and no kids, chat about families, he says he'll bring the parents by (chapter 8)**

**- This chapter is Monday. Esme and Carlisle will arrive in 4 days.**

* * *

><p>Chapter 12 - Time to Talk<p>

"They won't let you, or you won't ask?"

Lauren huffed. "I've told you before how Friday afternoons are crucial times. If I'm not here and a last minute contract or account comes through, some other staffer will get it. Until I'm an associate, I can't let any opportunity go by."

"I know, I know," Edward grumbled into the phone. "It's just that I hate asking my parents to wait three hours at the airport."

"Well, actually…I won't be done at five. Keith is taking everyone out for drinks to celebrate the Harper settlement."

"And you have to be there because of the kissing-ass thing…thanks for helping me out, Lar." Heavy sarcasm.

"You know, I really don't need your attitude right now. Pick them up yourself or get a car service. It's not like they can't afford it."

"That's not the fu—" Edward snapped his mouth shut to keep from saying the expletive. Even though his office door was closed, he didn't want to take any risk that little ears might overhear. He squeezed his eyes shut and tugged at the hair falling onto his forehead. "When are you getting home tonight?"

"Christ, Edward, I don't know! I'll leave whenever my work is done, as usual. Look, I have to go. I'll talk to you later." She hung up.

"You bet you will," Edward muttered to himself.

His afternoon passed quickly, and when the last patient of the day cancelled, he found himself looking at a long evening home alone. Alice had asked for the day off, so dinner was up to him.

He picked up his phone from the desktop.

"Dr. Snyder speaking."

"Hey, it's Edward. Are you on the floor tonight? I need a dinner date."

"Yeah, I'm on. Being down two doctors is a bitch." Joe chuckled dryly. "You'd better try to bank some sleep—fifty dollars says you get called in again this week."

"Damn."

Edward usually didn't work on Sundays, but he'd had to cover a shift in the ER the day before. Although he had little experience in emergency medicine, a surprisingly large number of ER patients were there for non-traumatic issues like ear infections and dislocated joints. He'd been shocked when first learning about the expectation for a pediatric doctor to work in the ER if needed, but apparently, such things happened in rural areas where there was a shortage of qualified people.

Normally, he didn't mind—the change of pace was refreshing. The previous day's call-up, however, had come at a bad time. He'd been planning to have his long, serious "deal-breaker" discussion with Lauren. Now, it looked likely not to happen that night, either.

The thought of arguing with her again chased away his appetite. Feeling defeated and drained, he locked up and headed to his car.

His first inclination when he neared the little flower shop was stay on his current course home. It would be rude to inflict his miserable gloom on anyone, and Isabella was a person who deserved it least. But then he remembered what a lousy mood he'd been the past Friday, the day after his huge argument with Lauren, and how Isabella had brightened his outlook. She had been able to wade through the muddled swill in his head and uncover the fundamental problems. She had made everything so much better.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Edward made the right-hand turn into the shop's parking lot. He realized he was about to lean on her again and hoped she didn't think him a nuisance. There had been a few times during their previous conversation when he felt they had shared some sort of connection, something deeper than the surface exchange between casual acquaintances. He wanted it to be the start of a true friendship.

Climbing out of his car in front of her shop, he noticed Isabella had her back to the entrance. She wasn't moving and seemed to be staring off into space. When the chimes announced his presence, she spun around with a startled look on her face.

"Edward!" Her cheeks were flushed.

"Is everything okay?" he asked, concerned at the unnaturally bright gleam in her eye. The doctor in him took over, and he closed the distance between them to put the back of his hand to her temple.

"W-what are you doing?"

He lifted his other hand and used his fingertips to palpate her neck. He frowned when she shuddered as if chilled. "Are you feeling sick? Your lymph nodes don't seem swollen, but you might be running a slight temperature. Let me get the temporal artery scanner from my car."

"The what?"

"Forehead thermometer," he told her with a grin.

Her temperature was 98.9ºF. Well within range.

"I told you, I'm…fine. So, um, what brings you here? Decide to get the roses, after all?"

Edward had been so concerned about her health that he had forgotten the reason for his impromptu visit. He scoffed.

"Definitely not."

"Oh?"

Her question was like a floodgate lever, and words began to spill from his mouth. He explained how Marcus had called him early Saturday morning to say he and Lauren were just getting in and that she had passed out during the cab ride back to the apartment. She didn't get home until that evening, just before Edward had to leave for the medical center's ER, and they never got a chance to talk. He told about his increasing eagerness to spend time with his parents—it had been months since he'd last seen them—but that Lauren wasn't able to meet them at the airport. He said it was becoming more clear to him what her first priority in life was, and that wasn't likely to change.

Edward talked from his chair and Isabella listened as she prepared to close the shop up for the night. Every so often, she would glance at him with a peculiar look in her eyes, almost as if she were in pain.

"Are you _sure_ you're okay?" he said at last.

"Yeah, um, I think I'm just…tired."

"Damn! I'm sorry, Isabella. I'm sitting here talking your ear off while you're trying to get work done. What can I do to help?"

"I'm pretty much done, actually. All I have to do is lock the door and hit the lights."

"What time—? Isabella! Why didn't you tell me I was keeping you here?"

"It's fine," she replied quietly, looking at the floor.

"No, it's not. I keep taking advantage of your kindness, and it's not right. God, I can't believe how selfish I'm being." He stood up quickly from his chair and shook his head. "You should've told me to shut up a long time ago."

"You're not taking advantage of anything. I just…I feel bad that I can't think of anything helpful to say."

Edward laughed, but when he saw hurt flash across Isabella's face, he gasped and went to her.

"Hey, I wasn't making fun of you or anything like that," he said, putting a hand on her arm. "I was just shocked at how your statement was completely opposite the truth. Everything you've ever said—or even when you haven't said anything, just listened—it's been so important to me. I only wish there was some way I could pay you back…"

She stared up at him with wide, unfocused eyes. Edward took a step back, letting his hand drop away from her, his expression concerned.

"Isabella, I really think you should get some rest now, take it easy for a few days. Are you okay to drive?"

"What? No…I mean, yes, I'm fine." She blinked rapidly and shook her head as if clearing it. "But you're probably right—I should get home and go to…bed."

Edward insisted upon staying until she closed the store and then followed her home to make sure she arrived safely. He was extremely worried about her health and made a mental note to check up on her the next day.

He never did, though.

Lauren's red Mercedes convertible was in the garage when he got home.

"So, where've _you_ been?" she demanded the moment he set foot inside the house. She was sitting at the breakfast table with her arms folded across her chest.

"I stopped by the flower shop after work to chat with Isabella." He had no reason not to tell the truth.

Her eyes narrowed. "Why the hell are you spending time with _her_? Is there something you need to tell me?"

"What are you talking about? We're friends…I think." He looked at her, his own expression becoming stormy. "And where do you get off? I'm not the one going out to bars all night and sleeping in other men's apartments."

"Please. Marcus hardly counts as 'another man,' and you know it. Excuse me for needing to blow off steam after someone, who I thought loved me, called me a superficial, lying bitch."

Edward cringed at the reminder. She had said some equally nasty things to him, but that didn't excuse the behavior. "I'm really sorry about that, Lar," he apologized quietly, earnestly. "I know that was a shitty thing for me to do."

Her shoulders hunched over, and she covered her face with her hands. "I'm sorry, too. God, this is so messed up."

The sigh he released contained weeks of tension and frustration. Edward sat down at the table across from her and gently moved her hands, taking them in his own.

"Lauren, honey, we need to talk."

She looked at him with tear-stained eyes—ones that mirrored the finality contained in his.

"I know."

* * *

><p><strong>The Edward-Isabella scene above was the one Isabella mentioned in passing to Victoria during ch9. The "pain" in her eyes is that whole "anvil-on-heart-with-hammer" business, and she's all spacey because she just figured out she has feeeeelings for the good doc.<strong>

**I'll fix the jumpy timeline after fic completion. Next chapter will catch everything up and move on. PHEW!**

**Thanks SO much for reading, and for those who leave feedback, I can't even say how much I appreciate each one. You all are the BEST!**


	13. Chapter 13 - Naivete

Chapter 13 - Naiveté

Edward entered the huge walk-in closet and took a seat on the chair in the corner. Rack upon rack, shelf after shelf—they had all been stripped of their contents and now stood bare.

It was—had been—Lauren's closet, full of clothing and shoes only 12 hours earlier. Edward was rather impressed by how quickly she had managed to pull everything together. The woman possessed a ruthless efficiency when something needed to be done. It was part of the reason she was such a good attorney.

The dissolution of their four-year relationship and engagement was surprisingly easy, in terms of logistics. The house was in his name; to cover her share of the mortgage and utilities, Lauren had set up a monthly automatic deposit from her bank account to his. Within two days of their mutual decision to split, Lauren found a furnished apartment in the city. Since they had paid for the house's furniture together, she compiled an inventory of their purchases, calculated current estimated worth, and handed Edward an itemized list with a request for half the total value.

Friday morning, after spending her last night under the same roof as Edward, she had hugged and kissed him goodbye, left her house keys on the island countertop and went to work. The packers and movers showed up as he was leaving for the office, and when he returned that evening with his parents in tow, everything she possessed was gone. Alice had taken the initiative to remove Lauren's breakfast shakes, yogurt containers, and diet sodas from the refrigerator, and that was it.

Four days to remove the physical evidence of four years.

Edward was crushed.

Oddly for him, though, he felt more upset about how the relationship ended than the fact that it ended at all. He was stunned at how easily they could walk away after so recently agreeing to spend the rest of their lives together. How did it fall apart so quickly? Had they ever been in love in the first place?

Edward considered these things as he drove the hour into the city to pick up his parents. He had no doubt that he'd loved Lauren. As he'd told Isabella, while his ex-fiancé's outer layers were teeth and barbs, she could also be sweet and playful. But the warm person he'd fallen in love with had become more deeply ruled by her harsh exterior as time went by.

Had he changed as well? Perhaps so. He was more certain about what he wanted from life, more accepting of his indifference to success as measured by income and celebrity. Those things didn't make him happy, and he was only just beginning to realize that staying with Lauren would not have, either.

Carlisle Cullen was surprised when Edward broke the news on the drive from the airport. His son explained what had happened so calmly that, at first, Carlisle thought it was a joke. Being a trusting, honest soul, he sometimes fell victim to skillfully-delivered deadpan and, as a result, tended to be wary of seemingly improbable news.

Esme, on the other hand, had just hummed and nodded her head thoughtfully. To be honest, she was surprised they lasted as long as they did. Her business-minded sense of intuition had warned her of a doomed merger, but as his mother, she hoped the unlikely pairing would be successful and make Edward happy. She also realized that important life lessons were best learned by firsthand experience.

As Edward sat on the chair in the closet, staring at the cavernous void before him, he wondered if any good could be salvaged from the desolation he now felt. Perhaps he gained wisdom and personal insight during the course of the past week, but it had come at a great cost. He felt jaded, wary, and to be honest, a little foolish. Had he been blind all along? Was he the frog happily sitting in the water as the temperature slowly rose to boiling?

At the end of an hour, a conclusion was made. Whatever the reality, one fact held constant: he had been naïve.

Sighing, Edward stood up and turned off the closet light. His parents had gone to bed early, and he had a half day of work tomorrow before they met him at the office. Joe Snyder and his wife, Carmen, would join them for lunch, but after that, he had no idea how to entertain his mother and father. Vaguely, he recalled telling Isabella he'd bring his parents by her shop. Although he didn't feel up to feigning a good mood in front of her—or anyone, for that matter—he was an adult, and life didn't stop because the imagined vision of one's future suddenly disappeared.

Lunch with the Snyders was difficult for him. Outside of his parents and Alice, Edward hadn't told anyone else about Lauren's departure. He suspected Aunt Dee knew—the woman seemed to know _everything_—but because his ex had never been a part of the community, no one noticed her absence.

When Carmen asked how Lauren's job was going, Edward felt compelled to give a brief version of the truth. Joe thumped him on the back with a cheerful "better luck next time," and Carmen gave him a trembling hug as she wiped at her eyes. The whole scene was a trifle embarrassing, and Edward was relieved when the meal was over.

"So this flower shop owner is your friend?" Esme asked during the short drive from the restaurant.

"Yes."

"Is she Lauren's friend, too?"

"Well...they were on friendly terms, I believe."

This was true. He knew that Lauren's suggestion of improper behavior between him and Isabella was an anger-induced jab aimed at him—she had only spoken well of the florist in the past.

"Hmm." Esme looked at Edward's reflection in the rearview mirror. "Are you and Isabella _close_ friends?"

"Leave the poor boy alone, sweetheart," Carlisle said pleasantly, putting his hand on his wife's knee.

"I was just asking a simple question as a mother interested in her only son's life. There was no hidden agenda." Esme's voice's was playfully innocent.

"Of course you were, dear."

Edward shook his head at the easy way his parents interacted. While having had their share of arguments, there was a certain understanding and acceptance of each other's faults that played a significant role in their forty years of marriage.

Esme and Carlisle reacted to Isabella and her shop just as Edward had expected. Carlisle was immediately enamored of the young woman and thought the store was delightful. Esme observed and analyzed everything, reserving her judgment until she'd gathered as much information as possible. The business woman had a masterful poker face and always held her cards close to her chest.

For the most part, Edward stayed in the background. Without knowing why, he avoided looking at Isabella unless politeness dictated he do so and spoke to her only during introductions and when saying goodbye. He felt he should tell her about Lauren, especially considering how much he had already shared, but wanted to forget about the whole disaster for a while. After all, Isabella was probably as tired of hearing about his woes as he was of having them.

"What a nice girl," Carlisle enthused, once ensconced in the privacy of Edward's Audi. "I'm surprised by how mature she seems for her age."

"It's probably the result of having to take on so much by herself, both during and after her mother's illness," Esme commented. "I wonder if she's truly as well-adjusted as she seems or is a dormant volcano that will one day erupt."

"Always the optimist, aren't you, Mom?" Edward said, dryly.

"With her being a _friend_, it's important that you think about these things. If she ever needs your support, you'll have a better hope of providing it if you've considered her circumstances beforehand."

Edward's composed, unaffected façade was beginning to crumble. "What's with the inferences?" His tone was sharp. "You make it sound like we've been sneaking around having some illicit affair."

"Hardly," Esme scoffed. "If anything, you two act like wallflowers at a middle school dance. One is too shy or scared to make her feelings known, and the other doesn't even recognize what's going on."

"What are you talking about?" he sputtered. "She's not…I would have never…while with Lauren…"

"Edward, you should know by now to ignore your mother like I do," Carlisle chuckled. "Just because she thinks she's right—although, annoyingly, she usually is—she has the bad habit of sticking her quite lovely nose where it doesn't belong." He accentuated his point by tapping the tip of the aforementioned facial feature.

"When it comes to my son, that's my prerogative." As quick as the jaws of a trap, Esme's teeth snapped down on her husband's finger. From the sound of Carlisle's throaty growl, she hadn't held anything back from the movement.

"Whoa, hey, can we turn the foreplay down a little? There's a man who just broke off his engagement in here." Edward grumbled as his father went for Esme's neck. It was encouraging to know that their love life was still healthy, but he didn't want any visual proof. Especially not now.

His parents tamed their behavior as he turned down the street to his residence. Edward, however, had already put their actions out of his mind. He was too busy going over his mother's words about Isabella and himself. Based on his previous interactions with the flower shop owner, all of which were platonic in nature, he couldn't figure out why Esme would say such a thing. And surely he would know his own feelings about someone else.

Yes, he thought she was considerate, kindhearted, talented, and beautiful...but it was no different from the way everyone else in town regarded her. True, he felt the urge to take care of her...but that could be attributed to his general desire to help and heal. He could also admit that there had been a few times when something undefined and unexplained passed between them, but…but none of it added up to what Esme had suggested.

Edward let his parents out of the car and then pulled into the garage. He frowned at his mother's back as she entered the house. Why had she brought up such a thing, especially given that his ex-fiancé had moved out only yesterday? How was it possible that everyone could move past his relationship so quickly—except him?

"Are you coming in, Son?" Carlisle asked from the doorway.

"Uh, yeah."

He climbed out of the car and joined his father, who put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"It's obvious that you're thinking too much about what your mother said. Just relax. You don't have to have all the answers now, and there are some things you'll never figure out. Que sera, sera."

Edward shook his head. "Seriously, Dad, you need to share whatever it is you're smoking."

Carlisle laughed. "I'm just high on life, Son. High on life."

* * *

><p><strong>Aaaand, we're all caught up with Isabella's POV.<strong>

**Okay, so I'm starting a long drive in less than 12 hours, and I haven't packed a thing for me, my 2 kids, or the puppy. I need to get the horse and chicken stuff ready for the animal sitter...and maybe get some sleep. Damn you, FF writing obsession!**


	14. Chapter 14 - True Colors

Chapter 14 - True Colors

Leonard Avery was a clerk at the post office and liked the sound of his voice. His wife Janice liked it as well—especially when he unwittingly revealed tidbits of information about the townspeople. Over dinner one evening, Leonard mentioned how relieved he was to process Lauren Mallory's change-of-address request. She had received hundreds of packages since arriving the previous year, and he had been the one to sort and load them all on the mail truck.

Janice couldn't wait to tell the other ladies in her homemaker's club. A few of them had daughters around Edward Cullen's age and would appreciate knowing that the town's most attractive male resident was living by himself. While it couldn't be confirmed that he was indeed single, that minor detail was not enough to stop mothers from imagining the wealthy doctor as their son-in-law.

By the middle of the week following Lauren's departure, most of the town had heard the news. For once, however, Isabella knew of the incident before Judy and Pearl discussed it over tea. She had found out directly from the sources, albeit in an indirect way.

When mail was delivered to the shop that Monday, Isabella was surprised to receive a letter from Lauren. The monthly invoice hadn't yet been sent, and she had no reason to expect other correspondence from the attorney. Upon opening the envelope, Isabella found a typed business letter requesting cancellation of the Mallory account. No reasons were given, but there was a handwritten post script thanking her for providing "exemplary service."

Three checks were also included in the envelope. The first one covered flowers already delivered but not yet billed, plus a substantial bonus. Another paid for six additional months of arrangements for Dr. Cullen's office, and the last was a check for two thousand dollars, made out to the Susan G. Komen cancer foundation in Renee's name.

Isabella gaped at the slips of paper in her hand. She didn't understand the reason for the actions and was astonished that Lauren had even heard of her mother, much less knew about Renee's death. When she dialed Lauren's cell to thank her, the call went straight to voicemail. Isabella left a message and then entered the numbers for Edward's office.

"Meadowlands Pediatrics, how may I help you?"

"Hi, Aunt Dee. It's Isabella."

"Hello, dear! What a nice surprise to hear from you, so soon after your earlier delivery. Do you want me to see if Dr. Cullen's available?"

At the sound of his name, Isabella felt a tickle of excitement in her stomach. "Um, not necessarily. Maybe you could help me. I'm calling to confirm the flower order I just received for the rest of the year. "

"I can't say I know anything about that. Let me try to ring Dr. Cullen." Aunt Dee put Isabella on hold and was back in less than a minute. "He's not in his office, but I'll have him call you."

"Oh, that's okay. If you put me through to his voicemail, I can leave a message."

"Nonsense. That's just an extra step in the phone tag game. Will you be in the shop for the rest of the day?"

"Only until two."

"Alright, dear, I'll make sure he gets back to you before then."

"It's not urgent, so there's no need to—"

A click signaled the call being ended. Aunt Dee usually liked to chat on for a while, but Isabella figured she must have had pressing office business. Mentally shrugging, the florist set down the phone and returned to her paperwork.

An hour later, Mandy knocked on the door to the small office in the back room. The young employee spoke in a hurried voice and seemed to be a little flushed.

"Isabella, Dr. Cullen's out front and says you want to see him. Should I bring him to your office?"

"He's here?" Isabella asked, confused.

"Waiting out in the shop," Mandy giggled. "So…should I?"

"Um, sure. Send him back."

Isabella smoothed back the stray hairs from her ponytail and made a quick attempt to neaten her desk. There were wholesale supply catalogs, invoices, and other papers strewn over its surface, and she only had time to form a few haphazardly stacked piles before Edward tapped on the door frame.

Fighting the urge to pop out of her seat like a jack-in-the-box, Isabella forced herself to stand slowly and smoothly.

"Hi, come on in. This is a nice surprise."

Tilting his head slightly, Edward entered the office and sat down on the small sofa opposite her desk. "It is? Dee said something was wrong and you needed to talk to me right away."

"What? I didn't say anything was wrong. I just had a question about Lauren's letter and couldn't reach her on the phone, so I thought I'd try calling you. It's nothing that can't wait, though."

"Lauren's…letter?" Edward's voice was quiet and laced with sadness.

Isabella glanced down at her desk, hating that she had inadvertently caused his melancholy tone, but confused that he seemed unaware of the letter. "Um, she closed her account?"

"Oh, right. That would make sense." He sighed and smoothed a hand over his brow. "How much is due?"

Now Isabella was completely baffled. "The account's been settled. She also arranged for delivery to the office for the rest of the year. That's part of the reason I called earlier—to confirm the order."

His eyes widened, making the green more apparent. "She did? I…wasn't aware. But yes, go ahead with whatever she set up."

Isabella nodded and fiddled with the pen in front of her. "Um, if you don't mind me asking, was Ms. Mal—, uh, Lauren dissatisfied with the arrangements for the house? I'd be happy to make changes…or maybe come up with something new…?"

"No, no. The flowers were great. It had nothing to do with that." He took a deep breath, his gaze fixed on the floor. "Lauren and I broke off the engagement. She moved out on Friday."

"Oh god, that's terrible! Are you okay?" Isabella blurted out, then winced. "Sorry, that was a stupid question."

"It's fine. To answer, I'm not entirely sure how I'm doing. It'll take a while for me to come to terms with everything. For now, I'm just handling life a day at a time."

"Yeah…that's probably best." She found it difficult to look at his pained expression and focused on the pen in her hand. "Well, um, if you want to talk or…whatever…you know where to find me."

"Thanks. I think I'll be okay, though."

His voice sounded strained, and Isabella glanced up. He was frowning, forehead crinkled as if deep in thought.

"Alright," she murmured. "Well, my questions about the office arrangements have been answered. I'm sorry you came over here unnecessarily. I'll be sure to lay into Aunt Dee about it—make her buy you coffee or something." She offered a weak smile.

After he left, Isabella dropped her head in her arms and groaned. Ever since realizing her attraction to Edward, she felt uncertain and self-conscious when in his presence. It wasn't a state she was used to being in, and she didn't like it at all.

That night, Isabella drew a hot bath and filled it with vanilla-scented bubbles. The soothing aroma helped calm the anxiety that had plagued her for the past week and a half. As her mind cleared, she considered the situation.

Her words to Victoria over the weekend hadn't just been for show. Even though a part of her was thrilled that Edward and Lauren were no longer engaged, he was hurting over their separation, and Isabella hated that. She wondered why he seemed reluctant to talk her about the matter when it hadn't been a problem before. Were her newly understood feelings obvious? Had he been worried about wrongly encouraging her?

Isabella huffed, blowing clouds of bubbles into the air. She wasn't a pessimist by nature, and negative thoughts were unproductive. On the other hand, she didn't consider herself an optimist, either. She worked hard, tried her best, and dealt with the cards life handed her.

An image of Victoria with hands on hips flashed through Isabella's mind. Her spirited friend wanted her to actively pursue Edward—dress provocatively, flirt, take the initiative and ask him out. Victoria advised that course of action while believing him to be engaged, and Isabella shuddered to think what she would suggest after finding out that Lauren was no longer in the picture.

While Isabella was no pushover, Victoria could be very persuasive, especially when teamed up with Aunt Dee. In fact, Isabella wondered if the two were already carrying out a plan—one which included getting Edward and her in the same location as often as possible. She'd definitely be having a word with her friends. Although touched by their caring intentions, Isabella didn't appreciate being manipulated.

She also felt rather insulted that they believed her in need of assistance. True, she hadn't immediately identified her feelings toward Edward, but that didn't mean she was incapable of acting on them…now that he was no longer involved with someone else.

Blatant flirting and suggestive clothing weren't _her_, but she could certainly put a little more effort into her appearance. Ponytails and messy buns were her hairstyles of choice, and although they tended to make her look younger, she'd never cared about that. But Edward was ten years older than she, and he'd commented before on her relative youth. The less she drew attention to their age difference, the better.

She could wear her hair down more often, perhaps swipe some eye shadow over her lids. A simple necklace might be nice. But, there wouldn't be any drastic changes made. She loved her jeans, and the cotton tops she wore were both practical and comfortable. Edward Cullen was an amazing man, but Isabella wouldn't pretend to be someone she wasn't, even for the likes of him.

Satisfied with her decisions, she let the water drain from her bath and rinsed off. Isabella felt lighter and more content than she had in months, and suddenly, she couldn't wait for the next time her path crossed with Edward's.

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><p><strong>I hope everyone who celebrated Thanksgiving had a wonderful holiday! Mine was nice, but I'm glad to be back home (and writing again).<strong>

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><p><strong>This transitional chapter was ridiculously difficult for me. Sorry if it's a little rough, but I have to let it go for now. RL is about to get crazy again...<strong>

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><p><strong>Another chapter coming up very soon! xoxo<strong>


	15. Chapter 15 - Hot Damn

Chapter 15 - Hot Damn

It was a hot Sunday morning in the middle of a hot June week, and the thousands of cicadas clicking in trees drowned out the gasping sounds that moved along the path below them.

A stretch of woods opened into a large clearing with picnic tables, benches, and a playground. One wooden bench sat by itself near the trail's end, and that weather-worn resting place was Isabella's destination.

Various colorful epithets flitted through her mind as she pushed her burning muscles the last fifty yards. Air rattled in her lungs and sweat dripped down her back, but she refused to slow until, finally, her fingertips grazed the bench. Then she promptly collapsed in a disorganized pile on the grass.

"No you don't!" The strident voice of her despised tormentor was loud in her ear.

"I hate you."

"That's fine, as long as you do your hating while cooling out. Get your buns a-walkin'!"

"Evil, evil woman," Isabella panted as Victoria hauled her to her feet.

"And proud of it. Let's go."

They started a circuit of the picnic area's perimeter, Isabella dragging herself behind a barely-winded redhead. It took several minutes for the former's breathing to stabilize.

"That was much better than last time," Victoria commented, glancing at her watch.

She got an unenthusiastic grunt for an answer.

"If you hate running so much, come up with something else."

"No, it's fine," Isabella sighed. "I'm just disappointed. I thought I'd be in better shape after the dancing session."

"This is a higher level of intensity, and there's no stopping and starting like in your classes." She looked down at her wrist again and led her friend to a nearby picnic table. "Come on, let's stretch for a bit."

"Are you in a hurry—do you have something to do later? Is that why you made me get up at a ridiculously early hour on a Sunday?"

Victoria's eyes flicked toward the tree line, then back at Isabella. "Um, no, I'm free all day. I just thought it'd be good to run before the temperature climbs."

"Yeah, okay," Isabella said, a touch of suspicion in her voice. She braced a hand against the table and began to stretch her quads.

"So, any new developments with you and Edward?" Victoria was slowly rotating her arms in large circles.

"Not since you asked me at dinner three days ago. And I told you, there isn't a 'me and Edward.' He hasn't come by the shop since Aunt Dee sent him on a false pretense over a month ago. And, no matter how long I hang around during Monday deliveries, he never shows."

"Okay, and you can't call him or go to his house because…?"

"Vic!" Isabella snapped, exasperated. "I'm really getting tired of you bugging me all the time." She bent over at the waist, put her hands on the ground, and stretched her calves. "It's not like I've got to make him fall in love with me by midnight, or my carriage will turn back into a pumpkin. I mean, he just got out of a relationship, and I—"

"Good morning, Edward!" Victoria called out.

Isabella nearly fell onto her face as she scrambled to stand upright. She spun around and was greeted by the sight of a lean, toned male form jogging toward her in damp running gear that clung to his body.

Unlike many of her friends, past and present, Isabella had never been one to ogle men, or even take much notice of their physical features. What she found attractive were their intangible attributes—things like personality, talent, integrity. An honest, hard-working person who cared about others would be beautiful to her, regardless of his external appearance.

But when she observed how Edward's defined leg muscles slid easily under lightly tanned skin, the way sweat droplets followed a path down his scruff-covered jawline, the rhythmic movement of his broad shoulders…she couldn't help herself.

She ogled.

"Hey there, Victoria," he greeted, coming to a stop in front of them. "Morning, Isabella."

"Um, hi." Isabella cleared her throat and forced herself to look away from him.

"Looks like you shaved a few seconds off last Sunday's time," Victoria commented, tapping her watch. "I'll definitely check out this _fartlek_ training method you suggested."

Isabella narrowed her eyes and scowled at her friend, realizing that their morning run had been part of a set up.

"It's an adaptable, stimulating way to do interval training. Ever since I've been incorporating full-out sprint sessions into my distance running, I've seen a measurable improvement in average speed." He paused, then glanced at Isabella. "I didn't know you were a runner."

"Oh, I'm not," she said with a pained grin. "Victoria and I wanted to do an activity together, and she suggested running. We started two weeks ago—before that, the last time I'd run a mile was in my high school gym class."

Edward chuckled in amusement, but Victoria's laugh was much too contrived for Isabella's liking.

"Well, obviously ballroom dancing was out because we wouldn't be able to take the same class." Victoria bumped her hip against her friend's. "This girl already completed the Advanced I session, and Advanced II doesn't start up until fall."

"I'm surprised you didn't place out of that class," Edward said to Isabella with a crooked grin. "You were certainly schooling me last New Year's."

"Hardly. I just followed your expert lead."

They shared a smile as Victoria looked on smugly.

"Well, I should probably start heading home," Edward said at last. "I have a very big lawn to mow before it gets too hot."

"I thought you had a landscaper," Isabella said, confused. "They usually showed up when I made deliveries to your house."

Edward raised a hand to the back of his neck and shrugged, slightly embarrassed. "Yeah, they still come on Mondays to do the trimming and stuff, but I started mowing the lawn myself after…well...anyway, I find it relaxing to cut the grass. My mom had me do it as a kid, and it's something I missed when living in the city."

Victoria nodded sagely. "I'd never survive in any home without a decent-sized yard. How could you host a barbecue in a high-rise apartment? Oh, and speaking of which, if you're not doing anything on the Fourth, James and I are having a get-together. It won't be anything big or fancy, but we'd love for you to come. Actually, you should know everyone there—me and James, Isabella, Heidi, Alex, and Aunt Dee, who also invited Alice and Jasper. I think Jake's coming, too. He'd never miss a chance to hang around our lovely Isabella." Victoria smirked at her friend.

Edward also glanced at Isabella, but his expression was thoughtful. He turned back to Victoria. "Thanks for the invitation—sounds like fun. I don't have any plans for the day, so unless I'm called in for an ER shift, I'll be there. Should I bring anything?"

"Just yourself. Alice or Aunt Dee can give you the rest of the details."

"Great." He took a step back and ran a hand through his damp hair, pushing it off his forehead. "Alright, then. I hope you both enjoy the rest of your Sunday, and if I don't run into you during the week, I'll see you on Saturday."

They told him goodbye and watched his diminishing form as he jogged down a path leading back into the woods.

"Damn," Victoria said when he was finally out of sight. "I think James is pretty hot, but _that_ man is just…damn."

"Yeah," Isabella intoned, still staring at the spot where he'd disappeared. "Just…_damn_."

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><p><strong>EPOV or BPOV next? I could go either way, so I'll let you decide. :)<strong>


	16. Chapter 16 - Natures Nurture

**Point of clarification: Ten years separate Edward and Isabella. The eight years were between Lauren and Isabella.**

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><p>Chapter 16 - Natures, Nurture<p>

Edward ran and ran.

Although six miles had already passed under his trail shoes, he took the long path back to his house. Despite sore muscles, he sprinted several segments at top speed. Without regard to an old soccer injury in his right knee, he jumped over fallen branches and dodged ruts in the ground.

None of it helped. The image of Isabella in her tiny running shorts, bent over at the waist with an invitingly firm backside in the air, was seared onto his brain and refused to be pushed away.

He let out a frustrated groan that was lost in the wind created by his frantic dash. Ever since Esme had planted that damned seed of possibility in his head, he'd been plagued by thoughts of the young florist.

Young. She was indeed young when compared to him.

Even though it was only a minor issue in his eyes, he still had to consider it. He'd just turned 36 a few weeks ago, and Isabella was 25, with a birthday in September. Ten years...an entire decade. It wasn't an uncommon or insurmountable age difference, but sometimes the gap seemed larger to him, especially in view of how cynical he'd become since Lauren left. Edward alternated between experiencing periods of sadness, anger, and loneliness—none of which belonged near someone like Isabella. Those emotions made him feel old and broken, as though he were too world-weary to look into her enchanting, guileless brown eyes.

But oh, those eyes. They were a dark, rich brown and so, so deep. Every time he stared into them, he felt as if she could see right through him, read his thoughts, study his very soul. Then, before realizing it, his mouth would spew out whatever was on his mind.

During his first weeks in town, he had heard about Isabella's mystifying talent to draw out one's darkest secrets. Since then, he'd subsequently fallen victim to her spell on several occasions. He couldn't let it happen now—not when _she_ was so often the subject of his thoughts.

If Edward were to categorize his cogitations, a good seventy percent would be labeled as concerns. Yes, there was the age gap, as well as the short amount of time since his engagement ended. But most of all, he worried about his flawed character, especially how it manifested itself in a relationship. Lauren had constantly pointed out his tendency to go overboard in certain areas—he was too demonstrative with affection, wanted to spend too much time together, wished to hear that she loved him far too often.

At first, Edward thought she was being overly critical. He had grown up watching his father act in a similar fashion and felt that Carlisle and Esme had an enviable rapport. But after studying Lauren's friends when they all went out as a group or attended functions together, he noticed how differently from his parents the couples acted. The women and men tended to split into two groups and partners rarely exchanged glances, much less talked or touched. In fact, he often saw more flirting between people of different relationships.

Over the years, Edward learned to pull back. Instead of taking her hand when they walked, he either touched the small of her back or kept his hands to himself entirely. Their outings were scheduled in advance and usually consisted of business or charity events. At night, he stayed on his side of the bed and allowed her the space she preferred. It hadn't been easy, given his affectionate nature, but he'd prevailed for Lauren's sake.

He doubted that he'd be strong enough to do the same with Isabella. Even before thinking of her as anything more than a friend, he'd felt a powerful desire to care for her, to cherish her. He remembered the few times they had touched—a comforting embrace, a supportive hand, a partnership on the dance floor—each occasion had caused positive feelings in one form or another. If anything _more_ were to develop between them, how could he exercise that same amount of control?

Edward knew he could not.

If he were ever fortunate enough to be in a romantic relationship with Isabella, he would want to hold her close, smother her in kisses, treat her like the precious creature she was. It would be impossible for him to sleep without pressing against her and feeling her warmth against his body. It would likely be impossible for him to sleep, period.

Those sorts of images comprised the other thirty percent of his thoughts about Isabella.

Now, the groan that escaped Edward's throat was more akin to a pained cry. He stretched out his body, pumping his arms and legs as fast as they could move. He needed to outrun such dangerous ideas, especially in the wake of Isabella's earlier stretching session. Isabella probably viewed him as a broken, whiny, middle-aged man who cried on her youthful shoulders at the slightest provocation…and she wasn't entirely wrong.

For his own sense of self-worth, he needed to continue his practice of remaining aloof and distant, avoiding her as much as possible and staying away from those beautiful, captivating brown eyes.

Because when he didn't, he found himself accepting an invitation to a Fourth of July barbecue that she would be attending.

Throughout the previous month, Edward's saving grace had been the ease in evading her presence. All he had to do was keep away from the shop and come to work late on Mondays. Alice took care of the grocery shopping and drycleaning, so there was no reason for him to go out into the small town and chance an accidental meeting. He turned down Jeff's invitations to eat lunch out and only ran during the earliest morning hours. Apparently, they weren't early enough.

As he slowed his gait and began to cool down, Esme's seed pushed a tentative spout out of the muck in his head. What if he tossed aside his fears, exposed his wounded heart, and took a chance? What if Isabella was interested in him, as his mother suggested?

What if?

His contemplative session didn't last much longer. Edward had to relegate Isabella and the barbecue to the back of his mind shortly after returning home. A strain of norovirus had found its way into town, and a number of people were suffering acute symptoms, including nearly half of the ER staff. All hands were called on deck, and as soon as he'd stuffed a change of clothes in a bag, Edward headed in.

The week passed by in a blurry haze as more people fell victim and Edward pulled long hours at the medical center. Thankfully, although the virus hit hard, its duration was short, and by Friday, his assistance was no longer needed. He went to bed early that night, but due to sheer exhaustion, he was still tired when dragging himself to work on Saturday.

It was only a half day for him, and when Edward stepped inside his house that afternoon, all he wanted to do was crawl back into bed. He'd told Victoria that he would be at the barbecue unless an ER shift interfered, and in his mind, the several he'd pulled that week more than counted as interference.

And yet, two hours later, he was being escorted inside a modest brick rancher.

"Thanks for the wine and cheese," Victoria said. "You didn't need to bring anything, though."

"It was the least I could do. I appreciate the invitation."

"I'm going to put the wine in the fridge and grab something from the garage. Everyone else is in the back." She pointed a set of open French doors leading to a sprawling backyard.

Edward approached the doors but didn't step through. He was last to arrive and could see the rest of the guests seated in the grass under a large canopy. Automatically, his eyes settled upon Isabella. A prickling of irritation traveled down his shoulders when he took in the large form of Jake Whitlock, seated much too closely to her. Though he couldn't make out the words, Edward could hear the buzz of Jake's booming voice above the rest. The arms of the kid—young man, whatever—were flailing about as he spoke, and he kept finding a way to touch Isabella. A hand on the arm, a bump with his knee…Edward fought the urge to march over and throw the brat into the nearby pool.

With some surprise, Edward realized he was acting the part of a jealous suitor. He took a deep breath and tried to view the scene with unbiased eyes.

It was blatantly obvious that Jake was interested in Isabella, but no matter how Edward sized up the tall, burly youth, he couldn't see him fitting with the petite woman beside him. Isabella was quiet thoughtfulness, Jake's abrasive cackles were annoying even at a distance. She sat with legs crossed at the ankles and hands curled delicately around a plastic cup, he perched on the edge of his chair with knees spread wide, beer sloshing in its bottle as he brought a hand to his mouth, presumably to cover a burp.

"Maybe you should go rescue her."

Edward turned to see Victoria approaching from behind. "I feel a little sorry for the poor boy, though," Edward said emphatically. "Doesn't he realize it could never work? Anyone can see they're not right for each other."

The redhead's smile was cryptic. "Well, they do say love is blind."

"Apparently, it's stupid, too."

Victoria let out a rather undignified snort, and Edward raised a quizzical brow.

"Sorry," she said, unable to hide an amused smile. "I totally agree with you, though. Isn't it hard to believe they're the same age? She's years ahead of him in maturity."

"That's obvious." He watched Isabella slide discreetly to the edge of her chair when Jake leaned closer.

Victoria shook her head and gave Edward's shoulder a little push. "Well, go on! The silly girl's too polite to make a run for it and needs some help. How long are you going to keep her waiting?"

Edward nodded at Victoria and stepped into the backyard. She watched as the doctor made his way across the grass to where Isabella and Jake sat.

Hopefully, none of them would have to wait much longer.

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><p><strong>Sorry to those who wanted a BPOV. You were outnumbered by about 40:1, lol. She's up next, though!<strong>

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><p><strong>As a heads up, the next chapter *may* not come tomorrow. I've been waiting for TWO months to start rolling out a story I did as a donation piece (Summer's Hidden Melody), and Wednesday is the big day! Btw, I am NOT a patient person! :) This one won't be for everyone, though, so please read the disclaimer first if you decide to check it out!<strong>

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><p><strong>Lots of hugs, kisses, and sweaty Edward love to you all! :D (Or sweaty Bella love, if that's your thing...)<strong>


	17. Chapter 17 - Jake Bake Outtake

**This tiny anecdote doesn't fit anywhere, but I hated to cut it completely. So here's a little extra somethin' for ya!**

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><p>Chapter 17 - Jake Bake Outtake<p>

The day Isabella Swan met Jake Whitlock, he did something for her that no one else could accomplish, and she remained forever in his debt.

It had been three months since Renee ended treatment for good, and although her body was rapidly declining, the once-energetic woman's physical state wasn't what troubled her most. She'd already lost so much—her breasts, her hair, her muscle tone—but outward appearances had never meant a lot to her. No, she mourned something much more significant—Renee had lost her laughter.

It wasn't that she was unhappy. She had lived a good life, fought a good fight, and was leaving behind a beautiful young woman in her stead. But despite her strong resistance, the disease was eating away at her spirit, casting its eternal darkness over her radiant personality.

Isabella did what she could to bring a smile to her mother's face, but though the dry, cracked lips would occasionally turn upward, light never reached the hazel eyes.

It had been a frigid day in November when Jasper tossed his thoroughly stoned son through the front door of the Whitlock house. The boy wore nothing but a ratty pair of tighty whities, a single black sock, and a happy smile.

"Ally, what d'you want me to do with your mother's darlin' grandson? I need to unload his suitcases and get back to work." Jasper had bellowed from the porch. He poked his head through the doorway and realized his wife was entertaining company. "Afternoon ma'am, Miz Is'bella," he said, assuming the heavier drawl he used around women other than Alice.

Alice was in the kitchen getting Renee a cup of weak broth. "He's fine for now," she called back. "I'll figure out what to do with him later."

"Okay, darlin'." He dipped his head to Isabella and Renee. "Ladies." Jasper scowled at his baked son a final time and took his leave.

"Hiya there, pretty ones," Jake slurred. "You're too nice to be sitting there so nice."

Isabella glanced at her mother, who was nodding wisely. She turned her gaze back to Jake, who had lost all interest in them, instead trying to pull off his sock and failing miserably.

"If my feet would just get in line, everyone would be nice. I'm nice."

"Here's your broth, Renee, dear," Alice said, taking a seat on the couch beside the frail woman and bringing a straw to her lips.

Isabella thought Alice might not acknowledge her son at all, but then the gray-haired woman sighed.

"Well, Isabella, you've heard the stories," she said. "Now you get the meet my son in the flesh, and quite literally, at that."

Isabella noticed the half-grin forming on Renee's mouth. She decided to have a little fun in hopes of keeping her mother entertained.

"Hello, Jake. My name's Isabella." She slipped out of her chair and kneeled in front of the young man, who was still struggling with his sock. "Pleased to meet you." She thrust her open hand into his line of sight.

As Jake frowned at the hand's mysterious appearance, the sock finally slipped over his heel. He hadn't stopped pulling, and with the resistance gone, his upper body snapped backward as the sock was ripped free.

"Sweet baby Jesus!" he cried, crashing into the nearby coffee table and knocking a tray of cut fruit pieces onto his head.

Isabella gaped in horror as strawberries, melon, and pineapple showered down on Jake's mostly naked body and the wooden floor. After a moment of frozen shock, she hurried over to the dazed boy's side and started plucking fruit out of his hair.

"You're so nice," Jake sighed dreamily. "I love the nice you."

The sound was quiet at first, and Isabella paid it no heed, thinking Renee was clearing her throat. But the rhythmic huffs of air took on a raspy tonal quality, and that's when she knew. Spinning on her knees (and mashing several strawberries in the process), Isabella whipped around to find her mother with hands pressed to her mouth, eyes nearly shut, and shoulders shaking as she laughed and laughed.

During that perfect moment, Isabella was filled with love for her mother, Alice, Jasper, everyone and everything—including the goofy, toked ex-college student slouched against the coffee table in front of her, covered in colorful fruit bits. It was the first time her mother had laughed in months, and they had Jake Whitlock to thank for it.

It was also the last time Renee Swan laughed. A month later, on Christmas Eve, her suffering was finally over.


	18. Chapter 18 - Too Close for Comfort

Chapter 18 - Too Close for Comfort

"It'll be cheap to set up, and I'll make a killing!" Jake enthused. "I just paint the bricks so they glow in the dark, make a course with 18 holes, get the balls and clubs and stuff, and I'm done. Think of all the money I'll save on electricity with the lights off."

Isabella nodded politely, taking a sip of her iced tea. "Do you think there are enough teens and young adults in town to keep the business going?"

The deeply-tanned face lost some of its excitement, but his smile was gone only for a moment. "Totally. Besides, I won't have to worry about employee costs because I'll just hang out there all the time. It's brilliant." He nudged her foot with his shoe. "You can come by whenever you want and play for free."

"Uh, wow, Jake. That's really…generous…of you." Isabella didn't know what else to say.

She glanced around the yard at the rest of her friends. James and Alex were standing in a cloud of delicious-smelling smoke as they lorded over the grill and discussed all things sports. Jasper dozed in a lounge chair beside Alice and Heidi, who were listening raptly to Aunt Dee tell the tale of her latest misadventure. Victoria made endless circuits from the kitchen to patio tables, insistent upon taking care of food setup herself.

One person was conspicuously absent—conspicuous to Isabella, at least. She tried to feign interest in what Jake was saying, but her thoughts centered on Edward's whereabouts. Everyone else had been present for almost an hour, and she was beginning to think he might not show. The possibility was disheartening.

Because of his anticipated attendance, Isabella had deviated slightly from her normal dressing routine when preparing for the barbecue. Instead of tossing on whichever outfit her hand first grabbed out the closet, she'd donned a white cotton sundress bought the previous evening during a shopping trip with Heidi. Her scuffed canvas sneakers were traded out for a pair of low-heeled sandals that she'd worn a half dozen times in three years of owning them. The only thing she did differently with her hair was pin the sides away from her face with barrettes, but she did spend five extra minutes to put on subtle shades of eye shadow, blush, and lip gloss.

Regardless of whether Edward came to the barbecue, Isabella was still happy with the results of her efforts. Not much about her appearance had been changed, but she felt different, somehow lighter and more graceful. She was very aware of her body and the sensations it experienced—the soft brush of material against her legs as she walked, long hair playing about her bare shoulders when a breeze wafted by, the thin straps of her sandals crossed around her ankles. The cumulative effect was decidedly feminine, and she liked it.

"…trailer for the new Star Wars movie. It looks pretty sick, don't you think?"

Isabella blinked and tried to focus on Jake. "Sick?"

"Yeah, it's gonna be amazing. I know next summer's months off, but you should come with me and Sam and Seth when it opens." He leaned closer to her. "We can see a movie sooner than that, just you and me. Hey, what are you doing next weekend?"

"Jake, we talked about this." She shifted in her seat, using the movement to put more distance between them.

He was oblivious to her intention and scooted forward again. "Yeah, I know. How 'bout we just go as friends? Friends go to the movies together, right?"

"Yes, they do. But every time _we_ go as friends, you hit on me, and I get really uncomfortable. Until you understand that my feelings aren't going to change, we're not doing anything together."

The hopeful expression on his face faded as he took in her words, his gaze dropped to the ground. "Okay, I get it. I'm sorry I keep bugging you, but...I just like you so much."

"Oh, Jake," Isabella said softly, feeling terrible.

There was a moment of silence between them, and she hoped the matter was closed. But then Jake looked at her, his eyes suddenly brightening.

"Okay, think about this. What if, when we're really old—like, 40 or something—what if we're still single? Would you go out with me then? Or we could get married, if you want."

She gaped at him, speechless.

"Hi there, Isabella. Jake."

At the same time she felt profound relief at the interruption, adrenaline coursed through her body when she heard his voice.

Edward had finally come.

"Dr. C! What's up?" Jake greeted.

"Not much. Mind if I join you?"

"Go for it."

As Edward took a seat across from Isabella, she surreptitiously looked him over. He was handsome like always, dressed in a short-sleeved button down and khaki shorts, but his face appeared drawn, especially around his eyes.

"Maybe you can help me out, Dr. C," Jake said, grinning at Isabella. "You know how some people have those arrangements where they get married at a certain age if they're both still single? I'm trying to convince Bells that me and her should do that."

"I think that only happens on TV or in the movies, Jake," Edward replied. When he glanced at Isabella and caught her staring, he returned her gaze. "At any rate, I think you're getting ahead of yourself. There's no telling what the future will hold for either of you."

"Yeah. I'm just saying it's good to have a backup plan, you know?"

"Oh, Jake, I forgot to tell you," Edward said suddenly, "Victoria wants your help with something."

"Damn. I'd better go see what she wants," he said, getting to his feet. "That girl can get bitchy if she has to wait."

Edward chuckled to himself once Jake was out of earshot. Isabella narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

"Did you just make that up?"

"Possibly."

"What happens when he figures it out?"

Edward shook his head. "Victoria will back me up. She'll give him something to do."

"Well, thank you for the breather. He can be very tiresome." She tilted her head. "Speaking of which, are you okay? You look like you'd rather be under the covers than under this canopy."

"It was a rough week at the center—a lot of extra shifts for everybody. I managed to get in a quick nap after work today, though."

"You should have stayed in bed, caught up on your sleep." It was wonderful that he came, but she'd rather have him well-rested and healthy.

"Oh? I guess I can leave, if you think that's best." His voice was light and teasing.

"Hmm…since you're already here, I guess you might as well stay." She shrugged her shoulders in an exaggerated way, joking back with him.

As was wont to happen when they looked at each other, their momentary glance became a lingering contemplation.

"Food's up!" James called out to the crowd. "Oh, hey there, Edward. Good to see you."

Edward threw a quick wave in James's direction and turned back to Isabella. "Shall we?"

The two joined the others around the large outdoor dining table. It was overflowing with traditional summer barbecue fare: burgers, hot dogs, baked beans, corn on the cob, salads, and more. Isabella had brought another standard—apple pie—to accompany the watermelon, ice cream, and brownies that served as dessert.

The group ate and talked and laughed, everyone enjoying the good food and great company. Isabella managed to carry on rational conversations with others, though most of her attention was focused on the seat to left, the one occupied by Edward. Several times throughout the meal, their arms or legs would come into brief contact, and she'd fight the urge to shiver in excitement.

At one point, Edward rose to throw away his trash. Upon sitting down again, he leaned back comfortably in his seat and slung an arm over the top rail of Isabella's chair. She was perched near the front edge, taking a bite of her dessert, so his arm rested a good distance from her body. The movement was made with casual familiarity, and she cautioned herself not to read too deeply into the gesture. Her thundering heart, however, had different ideas.

Victoria caught her eye from the other end of the table and smirked suggestively. Isabella very much wanted to flip the bird at her friend but instead turned away and listened to Heidi relate stories from her job as a veterinarian technician. Beside her, Edward chatted with Jasper and seemed completely unaware of the havoc he was wreaking on the mental state of a certain brown-haired florist.

After a few or many minutes—Isabella's perception of time was distorted—she excused herself from the table and headed for the bathroom. The house's chilled air provided just the shock needed to bring her head out of the clouds.

Except…Isabella didn't want to come down from her high. She'd never felt such breathless excitement in her life, and it was caused by nothing more than a few accidental brushes of skin and an arm on the back of a chair. They were the sparks that she'd heard about, read about, wondered about, but never experienced herself.

Until Edward.

Taking several deep breaths, she dried her hands and exited the bathroom. James and Edward were in the living room and heading toward the master bedroom.

"Some of us are getting in the pool now," James told her. "You brought a suit, right?"

"It's in the guest room." She was spending the night and had an overnight bag with her.

"I didn't get the memo about swimming, but James has my back," Edward said. "I'll see you out there."

He smiled invitingly and then followed James down the short hallway. Isabella stood frozen for a moment before scurrying into the guest room to get changed.

It took all of two minutes for her to pull off her clothes and step into her fairly conservative violet one-piece. Knowing Jake was going to be present, she had opted to bring her least revealing suit. He needed no encouragement from her, real or perceived.

She donned a loose cover-up, grabbed her towel, and went outside to the pool area. Edward wasn't yet outside, but everyone else had situated themselves in or around the water. Victoria, Alice, and Jasper sat talking around a small round table under an umbrella. James was stepping into the water while Alex, Heidi, and Jake played a version of basketball with an inflatable ball and floating hoop. Dressed in a very hot pink bathing suit, Aunt Dee seemed to be acting as the referee. Isabella laughed when the older women called a foul on Alex. His penalty: letting her feel up his well-defined biceps.

Isabella grabbed a beer from the cooler and took a seat on the edge of pool, her legs dangling into the water.

"Come on, Bells!" Jake called out after he passed the ball to James. "The more, the merrier."

She held up her beer. "After I'm done."

He nodded, then promptly launched himself onto Alex, pushing him under the water. Isabella shook her head and chuckled at the guys' antics.

"How's the water?"

Isabella glanced up to see Edward walking toward the pool. Her fingers tightened around the bottle in her hand as she took in the sight of him in James's board shorts and…nothing else. The pleasantly cool water was nowhere near enough to combat the rush of heat through her body. She made herself focus on his clear green eyes to prevent any obvious gawking.

Aunt Dee had no such sense of decorum.

"Well bless my palpitating heart, doctor! I think I'm in need of some CPR, stat," she said, fanning herself.

Edward's cheeks gained the faintest tinge of color, which did nothing to alleviate Isabella's uncomfortable situation. She had to look away from him as he lowered himself to the concrete beside her.

"I never pictured you as a beer drinker," Edward said, submerging his feet into the water.

"Oh? I like a wide range from pale ales to stouts. My problem, if you want to call it that, is that it only takes one or two for me to get tipsy." She smiled self-deprecatingly. "I'm a pretty cheap date."

Edward didn't say anything, so Isabella peeked at him out of the corner of her eye. His mouth was downturned in a frown, his brow lined as if he were thinking something unpleasant. She couldn't imagine why he would be making such an expression and was about to ask when Jake splashed up to them.

"Come on, Dr. C. Heidi sucks as a teammate, and I need your help. Bells, hurry up. Don't worry…me and Doc won't kick your cute little ass too hard."

Isabella threw back the rest of her beer in one long pull, removed her cover-up, and slipped into the water, shivering as her body acclimated to the temperature. As Jake whooped and swam away, she heard muttering behind her.

"What's wrong?" she asked, trying not to stare at the drops of water making their way down Edward's chest.

"You have the patience of a saint when it comes to that boy," he said, shaking his head.

"Jake's harmless. And when he's not trying to set up a marriage arrangement with me, he can be a lot of fun."

"If you say so."

Edward seemed upset about something, and Isabella wanted to lighten his mood. She grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the basketball hoop.

"Come on, 'Dr. C,'" she said in a playful voice. "I don't want to miss my ass-kicking. You'd better be gentle with me."

* * *

><p><strong>Love you all!<strong>


	19. Chapter 19 - Fireworks

Chapter 19 - Fireworks

"Dammit, Jake, I was open!" Victoria screamed as the ball arced toward Edward.

"Ha!"

Alex leaped out of the water and smacked it down with his hand. Isabella was closest to where the ball landed and dove forward, her arms outstretched.

"I don't think so!"

Just as her fingers were about to make contact, she was yanked backward by a pair of hands around her waist. To her left, Victoria was swimming at a rapid pace toward the floating ball, so Isabella had little time to act. She twisted violently and sent a large splash of water into the face of her captor.

Edward hadn't been expecting the counter-attack, and his grip loosened just enough for her to make a leap for the ball. She was able to snag her target, but before she could pass to a waiting teammate, Edward got a hand on it. He tried to pull the ball away, but she curled her body and refused to let go.

"Tickle her, Edward!" Victoria yelled out just before James lifted and held the redhead in the air. "Cheater!" she shrieked gleefully.

Meanwhile, Isabella was fighting a losing battle for the ball. Edward reached around her with his free hand so that his body was bent over hers.

"Are you going to let go, Isabella, or do I have to make you?" he murmured into her ear as she struggled beneath him.

The proximity of his mouth, coupled with the enveloping pressure of his warm arms and chest, caused a brief overload of her senses, and Edward was able to wrest the ball away.

"Got it!" he declared triumphantly.

His celebration was short-lived, however. Alex crashed into him and Isabella, her teammate lunging in an effort to regain possession.

The three of them lost their footing and went under, emerging seconds later in fits of sputtering laughter.

Despite Jake's protests, the game was called, with James, Alex, and Isabella being named victors. They all got kisses from Aunt Dee. The losers had to give them to her.

After a round of quick showers for those who wanted one, a game of Texas Hold'em started around the large table. Isabella put up her $20 buy-in, fully expecting to lose it. She hated bluffing and everyone except Edward knew that.

It didn't take long for him to figure her out. He seemed to know the game, holding his own against card sharps Aunt Dee, James, and Jasper. Isabella assumed the doctor's easy-going nature induced trust from others and caused them to fall prey to bluff attempts.

As expected, Isabella went out early, her chip stack having been worn down by blinds and antes on hands that didn't hold up after the flop. She took solace in not being the first to go—that distinction went to Victoria, as it usually did. Victoria's lack of patience and inability to conceal her emotions made her a target, and Jasper, in particular, took pleasure in riling her up.

Satisfied with watching the action, Isabella leaned back in her chair and nursed a beer. She felt very content in the idyllic setting. Light was fading from the sky, and the soft glow from candles and tiki torches provided a cozy ambiance. Jazz music played in the background, and citronella added a distinctly summer fragrance to the occasion. Sitting among friends—some of whom were her closest—Isabella cherished the knowledge that she wasn't alone, that she did have a family who loved and supported her, even if they weren't related by blood.

The poker game disbanded when Jake and Victoria couldn't wait any longer to set up fireworks. With the town being on the smaller side, there was no municipal display, so residents had to put on their own shows. The Whitlock males tried to make each year's set up more elaborate than the last, and Victoria's competitive spirit fed their obsession. She, James, and Jake each pulled out a wagon filled with pyrotechnics, and Jasper stood ready to direct the process. His focus was the "finale," which consisted of a multitude of fireworks set up in chain reaction fashion to provide long, continuous bursts of light and color.

Isabella didn't dare offer any help. Jasper was very particular about the arrangement, and Victoria could get downright tyrannical when working toward a goal. Isabella had no desire to incur anyone's anger, so she stayed away from the work area—more than happy to stretch out on a blanket laid down over the grass and let her mind wander.

It wandered right over to Edward, of course, who was still sitting at the table and chatting with Heidi and Alice. She would have had a fun, enjoyable time at the barbecue, regardless, but her interactions with him added a new dimension of delight. While they hadn't engaged in any outright flirting, Isabella now felt certain he harbored an interest in her above simple friendship. The casual yet repeated touches, how he remained close throughout the whole of the evening, the way his eyes repeatedly sought out hers—they all served to simultaneously pacify and excite her.

Victoria was desperate to talk about it, but Isabella brushed her off with a self-satisfied smirk. Her friend had been enormously supportive and helpful, and she was grateful for that. However, Isabella desired a private intimacy with Edward, and that needed to develop without influence from or exposure to outside parties—even ones as insistently nosy as Victoria.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

She opened her eyes to see Edward in the process of sitting down beside her onto the blanket. Her stomach lurched, but she reveled in the feeling.

"Just thinking about a meddlesome redhead I know."

"Ah, yes," he said, amused. "I, myself, am rather familiar with her great aunt. It seems they have the meddling trait in common."

"At least they mean well."

"Yeah."

The two lapsed into a comfortable silence, watching the fireworks preparation take place under the illumination of deck lights.

"I'm really glad I was invited to this," Edward commented, as Jasper made a final check of the setup. "It's been one of the best days I've had in a long time." He stifled a yawn, stretched his arms above his head, and then lay down beside Isabella.

"Same here, on both accounts," she said with a shy but happy smile.

"Let's do this!" Jake cried out impatiently after his father flashed a thumbs-up, his voice ringing out in the relative stillness of the night.

Victoria turned off the outdoor lights, and everyone stared into the darkness in anticipation. Isabella was lying on her stomach, her chin resting on her crossed arms. Close beside her, Edward was in a similar position, though the top portion of his body was propped up by his elbows.

Her stomach turned over and over from the giddy excitement caused by his nearness. It was nearly driving her mad, and suddenly, she couldn't stand it anymore.

"Edward, do you want to get together sometime?" Her voice sounded fairly calm to her ears, and she was duly impressed. "Maybe have dinner or something?"

He turned his head slowly toward her, his face cautiously neutral. Isabella held her own unaffected expression in place, even though she felt almost nauseated from anxiety.

Then he grinned.

"I'd love to. What about next Saturday? Do you have any plans?"

She returned his smile. "It appears I do now."

He nodded in approval, and they continued to look at one another, savoring the moment, preserving it in their memories.

And then the fireworks show began.

* * *

><p><strong>Heeheehee...lots of hugs to you from me!<strong>


	20. Chapter 20 - Lovely Lady

Chapter 20 - Lovely Lady

Edward had crossed paths with Isabella out in town exactly three times in the sixteen months he'd been a resident, and one of them had been the Sunday morning in the park the previous month. That's why he couldn't believe his terrible luck when he ran into her _there_, of all places.

She had no way of knowing the nature of his appointment, but he did, of course, and that made it difficult to hide how uncomfortable he was—and in more ways than one.

He realized it could be perceived as rude, the way he averted his gaze to the beige walls or polished speckled floors, but it was necessary to survive the conversation. Yet he still noticed how full her lips were and how the thin straps of her tank top allowed so much of her sun-kissed skin to show. In fact, the cut of the form-fitting top resembled that of her bathing suit—a memory he did not want to call up at the moment. It made him think of the pool, which reminded him of how her body felt pressed up to his, which had caused him to want more…which was why he had scheduled the appointment.

Edward wasn't so presumptuous to think that any sort of relationship with Isabella would necessitate sharing such information, but it was good to get it done—just in case. He didn't consider for a second that anything had changed since the last one, taken four years ago, but he also believed it was better to be safe than sorry.

Edward only had enough time to exchange basic pleasantries with Isabella before he was called back to the exam room. It shouldn't have taken long for his physician, Dr. Marks, to conduct the screening and order the tests, but the slightly older doctor seemed to have a chip on his shoulder. He made it clear that Edward would not receive any preferential treatment because of his status as a colleague and thus took a detailed patient history. Edward wouldn't have minded as much had he not just spent ten minutes writing the same answers on the form that Dr. Marks held in his file.

When Edward finally made it to the lab to give his urine and blood samples, the sole bathroom was occupied. A minute later, Isabella emerged, carrying a specimen of her own. They shared an awkward moment in passing, and Edward briefly entertained the idea that she might be there for the same reason as he.

It was an exciting, yet terrifying thought for many reasons, but he didn't have time to consider them. After handing a lab tech his sample, he rounded the corner to phlebotomy and saw an ashen-faced Isabella staring at the Vacutainers being labeled for her use.

He took the empty blood drawing chair beside Isabella. "Not a fan of needles, I take it?"

She squeezed her eyes shut. "Not particularly. Some bad memories…Mom…"

Edward's heart clenched, but he tried to stay upbeat for her sake. "Well, I happen to know that Leah, here, is one of the best. You'll hardly feel a thing." He nodded at the dark-haired phlebotomist who was now preparing the needle.

"He's right, you know," Leah said. "Just keep making that fist, and I'll have you out of here in a minute."

Isabella didn't say anything—she remained frozen in the chair with her eyes closed.

"You know, I've seen and heard some crazy things as a doctor," Edward said conversationally.

"Yeah?" Her voice was barely a whisper.

"A few years ago, a worried mom brought in her son. She knew he had a fever because she'd measured his temperature by putting one hand in front of her heated oven while holding the other on the baby's forehead. Told the nurse that his fever was about 250 degrees."

"Are you serious?" Isabella croaked, opening her eyes to look at Edward in disbelief.

"It's true. And once, I was doing a well-baby checkup on a six-month-old and noticed a bottle filled with light brown liquid. I started explaining that the child shouldn't be drinking chocolate milk. Do you know what the mom said?"

"Are you ready, Isabella?" Leah asked, needle in hand.

"Uh, yeah." Isabella was stilling staring at Edward. "What did the mom say?"

"She said, 'Oh, that isn't chocolate milk. It's coffee. He just loves it!'"

"No way…oh!" Wide brown eyes blinked at the pricking sensation.

"Hard part's over. I'll be done in just a sec," Leah said.

"Yep," Edward continued, "I had to work out a schedule so she could wean the poor kid off his caffeine addiction."

"Makes you wonder sometimes, huh?" Isabella replied. Then she winced as Leah pulled the needle from her skin.

"You're all set. Keep the bandage on until the bleeding stops, maybe ten minutes to be sure. Do you feel okay?"

"Yes, I'm much better now that it's over. Thanks, and sorry I was so anxious."

"You were fine," Leah said reassuringly. "Trust me, I've seen way worse."

"It would have been worse if I hadn't been so well distracted." Isabella smiled weakly at Edward.

"All part of the service, ma'am," he said, returning her grin. He glanced at Leah, who was now preparing his vials. "I'm up next, so…"

Isabella blanched. "Right. I'd better get going." She removed her bag from a wall hook. "Um, I guess I'll see you on Saturday…"

"Saturday," he confirmed as she opened the lab door to leave. "I'm really looking forward to it."

Edward was, indeed, looking forward to spending more time with Isabella and wanted to treat her to a wonderful evening. He'd planned to take her to an upscale French bistro about 25 minutes outside of town, but she insisted that the single restaurant in town, a family-style establishment, was fine.

His first reaction had been surprise—Lauren would have gone hungry before eating there. Then, he felt guilty for thinking of his ex-fiancé. It hadn't been a conscious decision to compare the two women, but he knew it would be difficult for him not to, especially just having come out of his one and only serious relationship.

The morning of their scheduled dinner date, he tried his best to let go of worries and concerns. There was no point in assuming and reasoning and justifying. He wouldn't deny his feelings because of some arbitrary timeline.

Aunt Dee and Charlotte exchanged poorly hidden smiles every time they caught Edward glancing at the clock or his watch. As soon as clinic hours were over, he walked to his car as quickly as he could without breaking into a jog. There was something he wanted to do before picking up Isabella for dinner, and he wasn't sure how long it would take.

Although it hadn't been a selling point for Lauren, the property Edward bought was over 24 acres in size, 18 acres of which were wooded. He'd hiked through part of it and, on one occasion last summer, had found a small clearing with patches of purple and white flowers. It seemed tacky to give Isabella something from her own shop, so he decided to pick the wildflowers.

The small hitch in his otherwise clever plan was that he couldn't remember the exact location of the clearing. There weren't any trails, and he hadn't thought to take a GPS fix the first time. He wasn't even sure he could get a signal out there.

It took almost three hours, but Edward managed to relocate and gather the flowers. There were also some smaller pinkish-colored ones that he hadn't previously noticed, and they made a nice addition to his informal bouquet.

When he presented the flowers to his date that evening, it seemed the time and effort had been well invested. Isabella accepted them with a glowing smile, one that made Edward feel like he had just achieved something great.

She wore a light green dress that appeared to tie on one side in the style of a robe, and Edward fought to suppress his less gentlemanly urges. Standing in front of him, with shining eyes framed by dark lashes and dusty pink cheeks, she looked so young and innocent that he had to kick away stubbornly lingering concerns.

"Are you ready to go?" he asked, his voice almost reverent.

Isabella merely nodded, a soft smile on her lips.

They didn't speak much during the short ride to the restaurant. The silence wasn't awkward, however. It buzzed with an intensity that seemed to grow stronger when he shut off the engine at the restaurant. Edward exited quickly and met Isabella on the passenger side just as she pulled the handle on the door. He opened it for her and offered his hand to help her out of the car. She looked at him surprise, as if confused by the gesture.

Edward noticed her hesitation and wondered if he had offended her. Although she seemed to welcome his overtures at Victoria's barbecue, perhaps his earlier fears had been justified—he was overwhelming her with his tendency to be _too much_. Lauren's lessons might not have sunk in deep enough. Almost automatically, he opened his mouth to apologize.

But when Isabella grasped his hand firmly and didn't let go, even after climbing out of the car, Edward's heart blossomed with hope. He took note of her happy expression and knew his own face showed the same.

The restaurant was busy, and between the doctor and the florist, every table held an acquaintance of some sort. It took several minutes to make their way across the dining room floor because of all the greetings exchanged.

"Hey Mommy, it's the stupid man!"

Mentally cringing at the sound, Edward turned to see little Emmett McCarty in a booster seat, a few tables away. He gave the child's red-faced mother the most reassuring smile he could muster.

"There's the flower shop girl. I'm gonna say hi." Emmett pushed out of his chair and tumbled to the floor before Mrs. McCarty could react.

The dirty-faced boy barreled over to Isabella and came to a stumbling stop beside her.

"Hello, Emmett," she said, glancing at Edward with amusement sparkling in her eyes. "Tell me, why were you calling Dr. Cullen a name that wasn't nice?"

Emmett looked at Edward, his nose wrinkling in disgust. "'Cause he's _not_ nice. He poked my tummy and wouldn't let me have a cupcake and then I hadda get shots. There weren't any dinosaur Band-Aids, so the lady gave me dumb Spider-Man."

Isabella raised her napkin to her mouth, muffling her laughter.

"I see." She nodded to the approaching Mrs. McCarty. "Hello, Rosalie."

"Hi, Isabella. Dr. Cullen, I'm so sorry! Emmett's just, well, he…"

Edward shook his head. "Don't worry about it. Three-year-old boys can be very challenging, even on their best days."

Mrs. McCarty promised ice cream to Emmett if he returned to his seat. After shooting Edward another glare, the child waved to Isabella and ran back to his table.

The doctor let out a small relieved sigh, but Isabella shook her head mournfully.

"I can see why he doesn't like you. How could you not have dinosaur Band-Aids?"

"You're right. I don't know what I was thinking."

They held their serious expressions for a moment longer, then began to laugh.

Throughout the course of their meal, they shared many more such light moments. Conversation flowed easily, and when they finally stood up from the table to leave, Edward felt that ninety minutes had never passed so rapidly for him. He wasn't ready for their night to be over.

Isabella seemed to be of the same mind. Her movements were slow and unhurried as she shouldered her bag and walked to the exit with him. Outside, she readily took his proffered hand as they strolled outside.

"It's such a nice evening…would you like to go for a walk in the park?" Edward asked when they reached the car.

"I'd love to."

The community park was nearly deserted when they arrived. A faded sign stated that the grounds closed at sunset, but town residents considered the ordinance more of a suggestion than a rule. The bar gates to the entrance had not been closed once in the last twenty years.

Edward relaxed in the warm summer air, letting his mind wander as he and Isabella followed a path into the woods. When a young child, he had a teenaged babysitter who was obsessed with Disney animated movies. She would make popcorn over the stove, pull him onto her lap, and together, they'd watch Bambi, Aladdin, Snow White, and the rest of the gang. He'd preferred the animal movies, and the ones with dogs were his favorites.

So when he and Isabella walked hand-in-hand over a small arched bridge, an image of Lady and the Tramp flashed through his mind. He chuckled softly at how much smoother and more suave the cartoon dog was than he.

"What?" asked Isabella, squeezing his hand.

"Just thinking I could never get away with calling a woman 'pigeon' or even 'babe.'"

"Okay?"

"Lady and the Tramp. I was thinking of their first date when they walked through the park."

"Disney, right?" she said with a grin. "I think I remember that movie. A few parts, at least."

Edward reached across to take her free hand and gently pulled her to a stop in front of him. It would be disgraceful to let a 1950s canine upstage him. He took a deep breath.

"I don't suppose you remember the spaghetti scene?"

Her eyes widened slightly. There was a bright point of light in each, a reflection of the moon overhead.

"Yes," she murmured, understanding what he was asking.

Lost in her trustful gaze, Edward brought one hand up to her face and brushed his thumb across her cheekbone. Her skin was soft and warm under his touch. So many emotions began to flow and whorl through him, he felt almost drunken.

But when their lips finally came together, when they moved and caressed and explored, the haze in his head cleared. Every sensation was vividly defined, his awareness distilled to exist solely in the moment.

He stepped in close so that their bodies were pressed against each other. Isabella laid her hands on his chest and grasped the fabric of his shirt in her fingers. He thought she must be able to feel the thundering of his heart as they leaned into the kiss.

There was no awkwardness in their motions, no uncertainty or hesitation. It was a slow, smooth dance, and when she opened her mouth to him, he tasted her for the first time.

She was sweet and perfect, and Edward thought that a lifetime would not be enough to have his fill of her.

* * *

><p><strong>Edward's stories are supposedly true; I got them off a doctors' message thread on reddit. If you ever want a good laugh, look some of those up!<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Again, I want to say thank you to those who supported me in the TwiFic Fandom Awards! It means SO much even to have been nominated...HUGS!<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>We're coming to the end of the story. One, maybe two chapters to go...<strong>


	21. Chapter 21 - Full

Chapter 21 - Full

Saturday was one of the best days Isabella ever had.

Monday was one of the strangest.

She had been expecting Aunt Dee's oversized smirk when she dropped off her weekly flower arrangement but was surprised when Charlotte came into the lobby to hug her tightly. Isabella mumbled her thanks, even though she wasn't sure it was the appropriate sentiment.

Aunt Dee laughed at the florist's confused expression.

"Don't mind that overemotional old bat," she said. "We're just happy that our favorite hot doctor has found himself a good girl."

Even as Isabella rolled her eyes at Aunt Dee, her cheeks warmed from both modesty and excitement. She said goodbye to her friend and climbed into her truck, casting a lingering glance at building.

Edward wouldn't be coming in for another hour due to the medical center's monthly staff meeting, so there wasn't a reason for her to stay. One corner of her mouth turned upward as she shook her head at her terrible luck. For the first time, she knew he_ wanted_ to see her during a Monday delivery, and work prevented him from being there.

Although barely more than a day, it seemed like such a long time since they'd shared a soft goodnight kiss on her front porch. She didn't see him at all on Sunday because of an out-of-town wedding job. At least they'd planned another dinner date that she could look forward to. Edward would be coming over to her house after work, and she could hardly wait.

Isabella was thinking about her menu for the night as she entered the rear door of the shop. When she went to the front to prepare for the business day, she received her second surprise of the morning.

Through the windows, she could see Jake, leaning against the hood of his car and kicking at stray pebbles on the sidewalk. He gave her a half-hearted smile when she unlocked the door to let him in.

"So this is it, huh?" he sighed dramatically.

"Is it?" she asked, perplexed.

"Mom told me about you and Dr. C. Says she has a feeling, and you know what that means." He ducked behind the service counter to look for something edible.

"Top right shelf," Isabella said absently. "I give up, what does her feeling mean?"

"Chocolate chip, sweet!" He pulled out the tin of cookies and took several. "You and Doc are gonna make it. It's a done deal, and I'm outta the picture now."

"Um…" Isabella wasn't sure how Jake could think he'd ever been _in_ the picture. "We've only gone to dinner once, so—"

"Is it the money thing?" His dark eyes were wide and earnest. "I know I don't have much now, but if the glow golf thing doesn't work out, I've still got my Lego set investments. In a few years, they're gonna triple in value. We'll be set for life."

"Jake…" Isabella bit down on her lip to stifle a smile. She didn't want to hurt his feelings, and it was even more difficult to keep a serious expression when he had cookie crumbs on the side of his mouth. "It has nothing to do with money. At all."

"Yeah, I know." His voice was resigned. "I just had to try one last time, you know?" Then he gave her a sheepish grin. "Plus, I was driving by and got hungry."

After putting some baked goods in a bag for him, she sent him on his way and began watering her plants. Some of the hanging ones were difficult to reach, so she pulled a stepstool out from behind the counter.

Ten minutes later, the door chimes sounded again as she was standing on her tiptoes to dust a high shelf.

"Back for more cookies already?" she asked, not bothering to stop her task.

"Cookies? Well, your kisses_ are_ sweet."

"Edward!" Isabella exclaimed, nearly falling off the stool as she spun around.

He was by her side in a flash, his hands going to her waist even though she'd already regained her balance.

"What are you doing here?" she asked in a breathless voice as he helped her to the floor.

"The meeting ended early and my first appointment cancelled. Dee insisted that I had just enough time to come over and say good morning."

"Oh…well, good morning, then" she said with a smile, resting her hands on his chest.

"It will be in a minute," Edward murmured. He leaned down to cover her mouth with his.

Just like the first time they kissed, Isabella wondered if she were having some sort of out-of-body experience. While she noted every physical sensation—his warmth, his taste, the fluttering inside her chest—there was also a feeling of movement, as if she was soaring. Or even riding the roller coasters she loved so much.

But as the kiss deepened, she realized it wasn't quite the same as those they'd shared on Saturday. Something else was present, something new and exciting. She parted her lips to allow him deeper access and realized what it was—urgency.

Compared to their kisses that first day, her fingers clutched his shirt just a little more tightly, his mouth was more insistent, they pressed together even closer.

It wasn't close enough.

She'd never felt such raw desire and had no idea what to do with it—at least, not while standing in the middle of a shop that would be open soon for business. Energy welled up inside of her and needed an outlet. She tried her best to hold it in but couldn't stop the mewling whimper that escaped her throat.

Edward froze, and for a moment, Isabella was mortified. But when he pulled his head back enough for her to see his expression, she realized why he'd stopped. His face was flushed, his eyes were dark, and in that blazing green, there was the same struggle for control that she'd faced.

He took a deep breath, released it slowly, then brushed his lips against hers a final time.

She accompanied him to the door and was greeted by the sight of Judy and Pearl standing on the sidewalk, waiting for the Open sign to appear.

"Why, Edward," Judy commented brightly when he pushed open the door, "It's such a nice surprise to see you here."

The doctor raised an eyebrow in amusement. "I'd have to say the same thing. I thought you usually came in at one." He glanced at Isabella and gave her a sly grin.

Pearl's eyes widened. "Oh, um…"

"I have an appointment this afternoon, so we're taking our tea early today," Judy supplied smoothly.

"I see. Well, ladies, I hope you have a nice day."

He only nodded at Isabella as walked to his car, but the smile he wore relayed volumes. Isabella sighed blissfully and watched him drive away.

It wasn't until she turned to discover the expectant faces of Judy and Pearl that she realized her unusual day had barely begun.

Other than around holidays or important events, the store had never been so full. Her date with Edward, happening so soon after Lauren left, had apparently been something akin to a scandal in town. And because Isabella was on good terms with so many residents, they didn't find it inappropriate to seek their information directly from the source.

Judy and Pearl were in their element, and Isabella was soon thankful for their early arrival. They played hostess to most of their acquaintances and retired friends so that she could do some actual work in the shop. Judy even had her son bring over a card table and folding chairs so that the ladies could herd the loiterers outside.

For the most part, Isabella received encouragement and well-meaning advice. There were a few women, however, who stopped by merely to shake their heads disapprovingly or send a resentful glare her way. It wasn't something Isabella was expecting, but after overcoming her initial astonishment, she ignored them and didn't give their malcontent another thought.

She was relieved when Mandy came in for the afternoon shift. The stress of her new celebrity added to anxiety already inherent in the day, and she couldn't wait to go home. After all, she still had a dinner to prepare and a handsome doctor to entertain.

Every time she thought of Edward—an increasingly frequent occurrence—a thrill of excitement rushed through her. She didn't typically let her emotions rule her head or rush headlong into something, but couldn't seem to curb her desires when it came to him. Not anymore.

While hurrying around the house to make sure everything was in perfect order, she often glanced at the door to her bedroom. It was doubtful that anything would or should take place there that evening, but she had a feeling that it wouldn't be long.

Isabella didn't consider herself to be prudish, just…particular. There were so few people that had interested her romantically, and Ben was the only one of those she'd been with. She was most definitely interested in Edward, however, and was confident he felt the same. If his awkward manner when seeing her at the medical center hadn't clued her in to the reason for his visit, his response to their kiss that morning would have affirmed his want.

When Edward came to dinner, they stayed in the living and dining rooms, as she predicted. It was another lovely date—an excellent combination of conversation, laughter, and intimacy. The only shadow on the evening was that it had to end. After the sixth "last kiss," Edward dragged himself out the door while Isabella chuckled at his forlorn expression. If she hadn't been on such a giddy high from his lingering taste on her lips, her face would have mirrored his.

Their next date, three days later, was dinner at Edward's. They ate in the breakfast nook instead of the formal dining room, and he confessed his aversion to living in the spacious mansion by himself. Selling was an option, of course, but he doubted it would be easy to find a buyer. He also mentioned that, while the house was too much for him, he did like the property on which it was built. Isabella wondered why there was a secretive smile on his face when he mentioned his attachment to the woods, in particular.

Victoria and James had them both over on Friday night. After dinner, they all played a rousing game of Pictionary, and Isabella discovered that Edward had no talent for drawing. Luckily, she had a creative mind and was able to decipher some of his abstract scribbling. They only lost by a little, and the pair considered this a brilliant success given how bad the doctor's attempts really had been.

As much as they wanted to see each other the next day, their schedules didn't allow for it. While their town was small, it boasted a beautiful rustic farmhouse that was a popular destination for weddings in the region. Edward worked that morning, and Isabella spent time in the shop getting ready for an evening ceremony. By the time she returned to the store, cleaned out the van, and made it back home, it was after 8 p.m.

She had just changed into an oversized tee shirt for bed when her phone buzzed with an incoming text. Edward wanted to know if he could come over for a little while.

Isabella was tired and had planned on an early bedtime. She and Victoria were still meeting three to four times a week for their early morning jogging sessions, and her alarm was set to go off at five the next morning. But Isabella couldn't pass on an opportunity to see Edward.

They lived fifteen minutes away from each other, and that was exactly how long it took him to arrive. When she opened her door, he stepped inside, wrapped his arms around her lithe body, and kissed her deeply.

"I'm sorry," he breathed when they pulled apart a few minutes later. "I just couldn't wait until tomorrow to see you again."

She laughed—a light, happy sound. "Don't ever be sorry about that."

They put on a movie and cuddled together on the couch. Isabella found it fascinating that doing relatively nothing could be made so much better when with someone special.

"What's so funny?" Edward asked when he felt her soundless chuckle.

"Mm, nothing, really. I was just thinking about how nice this is…and how comfortable I feel with you, even though it's only been a week."

He gave her a squeeze and a kiss on the top of her head. "It's been longer than that for me, I think. Maybe my feelings weren't romantic at the time, but I've been comfortable around you for a quite a while." A pause. "I know what you mean, though. Sometimes it's hard for me to believe how right this seems, even though our…relationship...is developing relatively quickly."

"Do you think we're moving _too_ quickly?" She turned away from the television to face him, intertwining her legs with his in the process.

"Not for me. Not one bit."

"Good," she replied, burying her face into his chest and breathing him in.

"You know, the movie's the other way," he said, amused.

"I find you much more interesting."

She took one more deep breath of his scent, then tilted her face up for him to kiss.

Isabella eventually turned back to the movie, pulling his arm snugly around her body. But the images on the screen blurred and faded as she relaxed completely in Edward's warm embrace. She was sleepy, content, and just so..._happy__._ As sleep began to carry her under, she recognized a feeling of completion—that the hole present in her life for the last five months was gone.


	22. Chapter 22 - Changes

Chapter 22 - Changes

When Edward's semi-conscious mind registered contact, it reflexively directed his body to move away. He slid a few inches over the cool sheets and drifted back to sleep.

But the light pressure returned, and this time, he cracked open his eyes in order to find an empty space on the bed. He didn't want Lauren to wake up complaining that she was uncomfortable.

It took a few disoriented seconds for him to realize that the mattress was queen-sized and not king, his pillowcase wasn't made of silk, and the small figure beside him was moving to get closer…not push him away.

He was in Isabella's bed.

Dimly, he could remember holding her on the couch as she slept, feeling tired but not wanting to leave, being woken and led to her room, falling back to sleep with her body wrapped around his.

Glancing over to Isabella's sleeping form, he gave himself one mental slap for adhering to old habits, then sighed contentedly and pulled her closer. He wouldn't have to form new habits with her, he'd just let his natural tendencies come out of hiding. She didn't seem to mind them at all.

Edward dozed off and slept soundly until a feeling of pleasurable discomfort woke him. He stretched his arms above his head and then realized what a mistake that was.

At some point during the night, his shirt had bunched up, exposing his midsection. Isabella was still pressed into his side, and her hand now lay on his bare stomach, just inches above the waistband of his shorts. Every time he moved, her fingers tickled his skin and addled his brain.

Not that it would take much to do that in the first place. He was lying in bed with a woman he found unbelievably attractive, both inside and out. If just the thought of her made him ache with want, this…this was too much.

He squeezed his eyes shut and stifled a groan. The only thing that came out of trying to ignore the situation was him focusing on the very sensations he wanted to disregard. The warmth of her body against him, the smooth leg that was hitched over his thigh, the rise and fall of her breasts against his chest as she breathed. And that hand, the one that rested so close to his waistband…

"Isabella," he murmured, "I'll be right back, okay?" He didn't want her to wake and think he'd run out on her.

She mumbled something incoherent and curled up into a ball as he slid off the bed.

Edward went into the kitchen and splashed cold water on his face, then got a glass of ice water. He paced the room as he drank, calling up every repellent thought he could imagine.

Finally, he got himself under control. Isabella was still asleep when he crept back into her room and lay down beside her again. He chuckled when she sidled up to him and took a handful of his shirt in her fist. It made him feel wanted, like he was someone uniquely special and important.

Too alert to fall asleep again, he just held her close until the alarm went off. She grumbled and rolled away, her hand searching for the clock on her bed stand.

"No…shut up…" she moaned as her fingers finally settled on their goal. The room was silent for about two seconds, then her phone rang.

"I hate you, Victoria," she answered without segue.

Edward smiled at the way her nose wrinkled when she talked to her friend.

"Yeah, I know. I'm getting up. I'm—" Isabella's words cut off as she flipped over to face Edward. Her eyes widened for a moment, and she grinned at him. "Actually, no. I'm sleeping in this morning."

He could hear an indignant buzz coming from the phone.

"Yes, I know I'm missing the chance to see him in workout gear," Isabella laughed into the receiver, "But I have a feeling he's staying in bed today, too. Bye, Vic."

She turned off her phone and tossed it back on the wooden surface. Yawning, she sat up and glanced at his amused face.

"I'm going to run to the bathroom. Be back in a few."

True to her word, Isabella wasn't gone for long. She made her way across the mattress to take up her now-customary spot pressed into his side.

"Hello, you," she murmured.

"So we're sleeping in?" Edward asked with a grin.

"Um, yes?"

She looked so hopeful that he had to laugh.

"Okay, if that's what you want to do…" He rolled away from her and pretended to snore.

She was quiet for a moment, and Edward was about to turn back over when he felt the mattress shift behind him. Her body nestled up to his, and she laid her cheek against his back. He hummed in contentment.

That is, until a hand slid under his shirt and across his torso. He bit down on the inside of his cheek in an effort to tame his reaction.

It didn't help very much.

"Is this okay?" Isabella asked softly.

"Mm-hmm." It came out sounding much less masculine than he would have liked.

Eyes clenched shut, he held as still as he could while she explored his bare chest. After a few minutes, he had to speak up.

"Isabella…"

She stopped moving but kept her hand under his shirt. "Sorry. I've wanted to do that ever since I saw you running that day." Her playful voice didn't sound the least bit sorry. "Then there was the swimming pool…"

She withdrew her hand and gave his shirt a slight tug upward.

"Can I?"

After helping her pull it over his head, he endured a lengthy torture session as she continued to discover the nuances of his upper body—this time using her mouth as well.

Finally, when not able to stand it any longer, he decided she deserved some payback.

Isabella and Edward stayed in bed all morning. Although they didn't cross the threshold to full intimacy, they both drifted back to sleep after a tiring hour, feeling sated and content.

The next few weeks marked a transitional stage for the couple. They learned each other's routines and habits, and their schedules naturally started to integrate.

Isabella kept up her early running sessions with Victoria. On Tuesdays and Thursdays mornings, Edward came over to help her in the greenhouse. The actual workday was busy for them both, and although hours could have been rearranged for a concurrent lunch break, they opted to work through the meal in order to be done earlier in the day.

Isabella always scheduled two afternoons off during the week because she so often had weekend jobs, and those free hours were dedicated to house duties. The only difference now was that, afterward completing her chores, she'd drive over to Edward's for dinner.

At first, it was hard for her to accept Alice's role in Edward's life. She found it awkward having Alice make meals, clean up, and take care of other domestic tasks. Alice quickly set her straight. The older woman loved her job; she enjoyed working for and doting on Edward, who was easy to please. Her generous salary was also much appreciated. In fact, sometimes Alice felt she didn't have enough to do during the day, especially since Lauren had left.

Still, Isabella insisted on helping out whenever possible. The two had grown close when Alice worked as a palliative care nurse for Renee, and as they spent time together once more, their bond deepened.

Edward was thrilled about this development. Alice had become like a second mother to him, and it always brought a smile to his face when he'd walk into the kitchen after work to find her and Isabella deep in conversation.

As much as he loved his job as a pediatrician, his work at the center was no longer the highlight of his day. He couldn't wait to get home, or to her house—wherever they had planned to be. They split their time fairly evenly between the two locations until spending the night together became a regular occurrence. At that point, he began staying with her more often due to her greenhouse duties.

Edward and Isabella got along incredibly well. Because of their easy personalities, they hardly ever quarreled. In fact, one of their biggest "arguments" was over the fact that they didn't have any.

"Come on, Edward," Isabella said one evening, "there's got to be something about me that bothers you."

It was a warm Saturday in August, four weeks after their first date, and the two were lying outside on a blanket.

"Nope, can't think of a thing." He returned to his important task of kissing the side of her neck.

"I'm serious. We need to be honest with each other. I don't think my mom ever told my dad how unsatisfied she was with their life together until she'd already made up her mind to leave."

He leaned back on his side and caressed her cheek. "I _am_ being honest, sweetheart. I'm happier than I've ever been, and nothing you do bothers me. Not yet anyway." He gave her a mischievous smirk.

"Not even when I forget to clear the drain of my hair after I shower?" she challenged.

"Doesn't bother me. The few times that it's happened, it's usually because I was distracting you in some form or another."

Isabella snorted. "Your attempt at belly dancing in a towel was not a distraction, it was a tragedy."

"Exactly my point. You were suffering too much to remember the drain. I took care of it the next day, no big deal."

"Okay, well, what about when I… I put the milk on the refrigerator door instead of in the back?"

Now Edward sat up and studied her face. "What's going on? What are you looking for me to say?"

"Nothing in particular," she admitted. "I'm just, well…I'm a little scared, I guess. I care about you so much, and I don't want _us_ to ever change. You know, like…like you and Lauren did." Her voice dropped down to a murmur.

"Oh, sweetheart," Edward said, pain in his heart. He gathered her up on his lap and held her close. "She and I were so dissimilar to begin with. And, _yes_," he continued, knowing what Isabella was about to say, "You and I've talked about my parents' relationship, but I was wrong to try modeling my own after theirs. We're all unique people, and although my dad and I have a lot in common, I'm not the same as him." He shook his head and shuddered. "When you think about it, it's a little creepy that I was looking for someone like my mother."

The beginning of a smile appeared on Isabella's lips. "Your mom and Lauren aren't _that_ much alike." She blew out a breath. "I'm sorry. I've never been in this stage of a relationship before. It's somewhat overwhelming."

"Oh?" he asked, confused. "What stage is that?"

Isabella flushed but kept her gaze steady on his. "The part when I fall in love."

"You…you're…in love?" Edward whispered, his chest tightening in happiness. He felt the same but had been worried about saying it too soon.

She nodded shyly. "I am. I love you, so much."

He managed to choke out an "I love you, too" just before leaning down and kissing her fiercely.

That night, they did take that final step. They made love for the first time.

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><p><strong>One more chapter, in BPOV. <strong>

**I will also be doing a separate outtake of the fade-to-black part. It will be slightly more, um, descriptive, and I didn't feel that belonged within this particular narrative. :)**

**Lots 'o love!**


	23. Chapter 23 - The Flower Girl

**Huge apologies for the email alert that went out 2 days ago! This is the correct chapter 23.**

* * *

><p>Chapter 23 - The Flower Girl<p>

When Isabella thought back over the people in her life she'd been closest to, she realized that every one of them was forthcoming about their thoughts and feelings. Her best friend in high school must have had a daily quota of words to reach—that number being very high. Victoria had no problem stating exactly what was on her mind, and Renee had picked the strangest moments to share off-topic, but wildly interesting, stories.

Conversely, Isabella was a listener. People who wanted to talk saw her as an unbiased sounding board and a warm source of support. She tended not to give advice but instead provided a medium through which others could figure out a solution on their own.

As for _her_ life, it was relatively simple and drama-free. She enjoyed her work, made enough money to eke out a living, and had a small but close circle of friends. Almost all of the problems she experienced were work-related, and she didn't really view the issues that any normal business owner faced as "problems."

But during the last week of September, when she and Edward had been dating for almost three months, Isabella had a problem. And it seemed that he did, too.

"So, um, how was your day?"

They were eating dinner at her house on a Friday evening. It took a few moments for Edward to respond to her question. He'd been absently moving the peas around on his plate.

"I'm sorry…what?"

"Your day. How did it go?"

"Oh, you know…same as usual."

He lapsed back into silence. Isabella noted the furrowed brow and downturned mouth.

"Is something wrong?"

Edward glanced up as if startled by her voice. "No! Of course not. Not at all."

Now picking at her own food, Isabella chewed on her lip and began to fret more than she already had been. Was he acting differently than normal, or was she just being overly sensitive? Could he have started to suspect? Was he having second thoughts about them…about _her_…because of it?

Maybe he simply had a long day at work or was thinking about one of his patients. If that was the case, she didn't want to pester him. No sense in trying to have a discussion when he was preoccupied. She'd just talk to him later...yes, waiting was a good plan.

"What about you?"

"Um, what do you mean?" It was her turn to jump in surprise. Had he said something else to her and she'd missed it?

Edward gave her a curious look. "Was work okay?"

Isabella tried to keep her expression light. After all, the business was doing fine. She, on the other hand…

"Yeah, everything was good at work today."

"That's good."

After another long stretch without conversation, they cleaned up the dinner that had been left largely untouched and went into the living room. Instead of taking a seat on the couch as he usually did, Edward remained standing.

"Uh, I think I'm going to head home now."

Isabella stared down at the floor. She didn't look at him, worried she might see something on his face that confirmed her fears. The tears were dangerously close to the surface as it was.

"Okay. I'm pretty tired, so I'll probably just go to bed," she responded in a falsely bright voice.

He tilted his head as if to study her, then stepped close to give her a tender kiss goodnight.

"I love you, sweetheart," he said, then hurried out the front door.

After his car pulled out of the driveway, Isabella sat down on the couch and began to cry.

Everything had been going perfectly well, and now…if only she hadn't been so careless and irresponsible.

The first bad decision she'd made was to join in the Power Hour at Aunt Dee's Labor Day get-together. Surprisingly, it had been Edward who issued the challenge, although Jake's incessant "old" jokes aimed at the doctor probably had a lot to do with it.

Isabella barely lasted twenty minutes, even though her shots were only beer. She tried to assign blame to the glass of wine she'd had before the game, but in the midst of her tipsy declaration, she had to make a mad dash to the bathroom when the alcohol decided to make a reappearance. That marked the beginning of three miserable days.

On the second day, it became clear that a stomach virus and not a massive hangover was causing her ill feelings. Apparently, her immune system had some catching up to do now that she was spending a lot of time around a pediatrician, even one who enforced exemplary hygiene and sanitation practices at his office. There wasn't much he could do when a child sneezed in his face as he listened to her lungs.

Isabella had felt so wretched that, although she continued to take her birth control pills, it didn't occur to her that their efficacy might be diminished because of her frequent vomiting. One overlooked detail on her part…a life-changing discovery two weeks later.

Despite not yet getting confirmation from a doctor, she was all but certain of the pregnancy. Three different brands of tests had showed the same result.

No one knew except her. The tests had even been ordered online to keep gossip-seeking townspeople from finding out. Edward should be told before anyone else, and she hadn't been able to muster up the courage to face him.

Isabella tried to convince herself she was being silly, that he wouldn't be horrified at her negligence but instead accept the news with excitement and joy. While the couple hadn't talked about the future in any specific detail, she knew Edward was _her_ future. There was no doubt in her mind about sharing her life with him…as long as he felt the same way.

She thought that he did. Edward talked about loving her always, and they'd recently kicked around the idea of her moving in with him. She'd even considered offering her employee, Mandy, a free lease of her house in exchange for taking over most of the greenhouse duties.

Would Edward think differently of her when she revealed what had happened? He'd said he wanted children, but that had been with Lauren, whom he'd been with four years and was his fiancé at the time. What if he wasn't yet sure about wanting the same with her? What if this changed everything between them?

Isabella couldn't bear the thought of losing him. Even considering it hypothetically ripped a hole in her heart. It was because of this deep fear that she hadn't been able to tell him. Almost a week had passed since she found out, and still, he did not know that he'd become a father.

The entire situation was overwhelming, and her increasing hormone levels weren't helping. That day at work had been the worst so far. She was struck with a deep longing to talk to her mom, to share this profound experience with the woman who given birth to her. Everything seemed to bring back memories of Renee. Although her mother had left the mortal earth five years prior, Isabella had never felt closer to her than now, with the tiny spark of new life inside her.

She fell asleep on the couch that night, not wanting to be alone in the bed she and Edward so often shared. They didn't spend every night together, but that was only because Edward had the occasional night shift at the medical center. She'd become used to the feel of his body beside hers when they slept, and his absence caused her anxiety to worsen, especially after their awkward dinner.

When her phone alarm sounded the next morning, she discovered a text from Edward waiting for her. He was going into the city after his half day of work and probably wouldn't make it back in time for dinner. There was no mention of seeing her when he returned or spending the night together. She replied with what she hoped was a casual question about the nature of his trip. He never wrote back.

The second night alone was even worse than the first. In fact, Isabella hardly slept at all, too worried about what Edward's odd behavior might mean. The following day was a Sunday, and she decided to go to his house in the morning and insist that they talk.

As the sun's light signaled the new day, Isabella felt ready and strangely calm. With her course set, everything seemed much more simple. She was a mother, and her top priority was her child—whatever choices she made would be in the little one's best interest. Regardless of how Edward took the news, Isabella would be okay in the end. She would be strong and conquer every obstacle because another life—her _child's_ life—was now her responsibility.

Switching off her truck's engine in Edward's driveway, she took a deep breath and prepared to face him. However, she was _not_ prepared to see the man in question roar up from his backyard on an obviously brand new Utility Task Vehicle, one that looked like a rugged version of a golf cart. He'd never mentioned an interest in such a thing, much less an intention to purchase one.

"Isabella!"

He hopped off the small vehicle, his forehead covered in sweat, his eyes slightly wild.

"Hi." She continued to stare at the UTV. "That's a rather unexpected sight."

"Do you like it?" he asked breathlessly.

"It's, um…nice?"

He nodded enthusiastically, not seeming to notice her hesitation. But then he focused his gaze on her truck. His face took on an expression of shock and…fear?

"You're here…what are you doing here?" His eyes swept over the house and yard as if he were looking for something.

She opened the truck door and climbed out. "We haven't talked much in the last couple days, and I, uh, have something I need to tell you."

"Now?" Again, Edward turned his head to search the vicinity. After a moment, he nodded—mostly to himself, it seemed—and reached for her hands. "Okay, I can do this now."

He brought her close and touched his lips to hers. At first, Isabella was too confused to respond. Something was definitely going on, and a little of her anxiety had returned. But when Edward caressed her face with one hand and wrapped the other around her waist, she got lost in the feeling of his body and his touch.

The kiss started out gentle and sweet but, as usual, soon became passionately heated. All rational thought left Isabella's mind as she ran her hands over Edward's firm chest and pressed her hips into him. She rose up on her toes to push into the kiss, into his mouth, into him, as if they could merge their bodies as easily as they had connected their hearts.

When they eased apart, pulses racing, Isabella looked into the eyes of the man she had come to know so well and was struck with shame over her earlier doubts. Edward would never reject her or their child. His love for her was unconditional and without limit. He would welcome the news and celebrate the new life they had created. How could she have thought he would do anything less?

Edward saw the shadow of self-deprecation on her face.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?"

All of Isabella's calm had now been replaced with excitement.

"I have to tell you something," she said, the words coming out in a rush. "Come on, let's go inside."

His expression immediately mirrored hers. "I want to tell you something, too. Well…sort of. But I don't want to do it here. Take a ride with me?" He flashed an alluring grin.

"Um, okay. Where are we going?"

His light in his eyes danced mischievously. "You'll see."

Following his lead, she settled herself in one of the two bucket seats and fastened her seat belt. Edward started up the engine and drove toward an opening in the woods behind his house.

"When did you get this?" Isabella asked over the UTV's noise.

"Yesterday. It was one of things on my To-Do list."

"I'm surprised you never mentioned it," she said.

"Well, if I had, you'd probably have asked questions. I'm discovering that it's really hard for me to keep things from you."

"Oh?" The expectant tone of her voice conveyed her curiosity.

"You'll see," he repeated.

Edward's pace was much slower than the one she'd seen him use earlier. He explained it away by pointing out that he was now carrying precious cargo. She smiled, squeezed his leg, and relaxed to enjoy the ride.

The colorful brilliance of the fall foliage was reaching its peak and provided a beautiful backdrop for the journey. The UTV followed a newly worn, barely visible trail through the woods, and Isabella wondered how often Edward had traveled it. She didn't ask, though. For the moment, she was content to let him reveal his surprise as he saw fit.

After about twenty minutes, the UTV took a turn through a grove of vividly red trees and emerged into a sunlit glade in the midst of the woods. It wasn't very large—probably around the size of the great room in Edward's house.

It was a beautiful sight, but what captured Isabella's attention was the blanket, picnic basket, and cooler situated at the center of the clearing. Edward stopped the vehicle at the edge of the trees.

"I know it's a little early for lunch, but we weren't supposed to be here for another hour," he said. "I had been about to take a shower and then drive to your house when you showed up."

"What if I had plans?" she said in a teasing voice as they walked toward the blanket.

He sucked in a breath of air as if startled by the thought. "But earlier this week, you said…"

"Well, we haven't talked since Friday. What if I'd changed my mind about staying around the house?" She stopped and looked at him as her mind made a connection. "Is this why you were so strange that night…why you've been avoiding me?"

Edward cringed. "I'm so sorry. I wanted everything to be perfect. And, I was ridiculously anxious…I was worried I might say something to give it away."

"You were anxious about a picnic?"

"Well, not really the picnic…"

He took a sudden, deep breath and reached for her fingertips, his face showing a mixture of nervousness and sincerity.

"Edward, what's going on? Why are you…oh my god."

She gasped when he lowered himself to the ground on one knee and kissed her hands.

"I know we've only been dating a short while, but no amount of time can change how I feel about this. Isabella—"

"Edward, no—wait!"

"No…no?"

She had never seen such a defeated, forlorn expression on his face. And to know that she'd been the cause...

Isabella fell to her own knees and threw her arms around his neck.

"I have to say something first, and then…if you still want to ask…"

"Of course I will," he rasped, his voice choked with emotion. "I love you more than anything and will always want—"

"I'm pregnant."

She hadn't meant to blurt it out that way, without any buildup or warning, but it was difficult to keep her anxiety away. She needed to find out his reaction. If…_when_…he showed his acceptance, then, and only then, could she allow herself to consider what he'd been about to ask.

Edward moved back so that he was sitting on his heels and able to look in her eyes. His own were wide and plainly showed his utter astonishment. He didn't say anything for an eternal moment.

"Edward?"

Isabella squeezed his hands tightly, almost painfully. He would be happy about this. He _had_ to be.

"You…we…a_ baby_?"

His words were barely louder than a whisper.

She was about to explain how it had happened when Edward swiftly but gently took her face in his hands. With a passion barely contained, he kissed her mouth, her forehead, the tip of her nose, her mouth again.

"Isabella, my Bella" he murmured, his lips moving against hers, "I love you so very much—you _and_ our child. Will you marry me?"

There was no hesitation in her voice when she said answered. Just quiet, unequivocal joy.

"Yes."

Edward stood up, pulling her along with him as he rose. She laughed when he wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her up for another kiss, this one deep and frenzied.

"So I guess you're okay with the news?" she chuckled breathlessly when he set her down.

"It's the best ever, ranking alongside the "yes" you just gave me. I don't even have words to explain how I feel. I'm just so...so…_happy_."

Isabella reached up and wiped away the tear that trickled down his cheek. "Me, too."

A little later, Edward gave her a beautiful ring that had been all but forgotten in light of her life-changing announcement. They spent the entire afternoon in the glade—eating, talking, loving, savoring the sweet bliss of their new status as an engaged couple and parents-to-be.

"We should probably head back soon," Edward commented at one point. He was sitting against a tree at the edge of the clearing, with Isabella's body lying perpendicular to his. His hand traced spirals across her abdomen.

"I know," she sighed. "I just hate for this incredible day to end. It was perfect."

"Completely perfect," he agreed, a content smile on his lips. "But you know that it's actually the beginning, right? You and me, living together, getting married, having a child…our life together is just starting." He leaned over and kissed her stomach.

Isabella threaded her fingers in his hair and sighed. It was difficult to imagine her life more full than it was at that moment, but Edward was right.

For them, it really was the beginning.

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><p><em><strong>Fin<strong>_

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><p><strong>Wow. This was quite the unexpected adventure for me, but it's been so much fun! Thanks to all those who read, reviewed, and asked for more Flowerella and Doctorward. I truly appreciate all of you!<strong>

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><p><strong>If you haven't read it yet, I posted a lemon-ette outtake about the first night Edward stayed over (Chapter 22). You can find it on my profile page. At some point, I'll write their first time together (end Chapter 22), so stay tuned!<strong>

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><p><strong>If you were one of the few who read the epilogue I posted a few days ago, consider that a future-take. After I edit it to be consistent with the new final chapter above, I'll post it here!<strong>

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><p><strong>You can check out winterhorsesfiction on FB for story pictures, teasers, small outtakes, etc.! xxoo<strong>


	24. Chapter 24 - Future Take

**Future Take - Five and a half years later**

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><p>Emmett McCarty sighed and tried to brush the dirt off his jeans. He'd been clean when he left home that morning, but then Jared Crowley challenged him to a race. Emmett won, but not by much. Jared was fast for a first-grader—all legs and arms and speed. At least he'd never be able to out-wrestle Emmett, who routinely took down boys in fourth and fifth grade, as well as other third-graders.<p>

It never seemed to impress her, though. _Nothing_ he did impressed her. Not when he scaled that tall evergreen or picked up the snake with his bare hands or even did fifty sit-ups in a minute. Of course, she could do all those things, too.

At least he was her friend. That, in itself, was a major accomplishment. She didn't like being near most people but made an exception for him. He considered himself the luckiest boy in school.

The long driveway to her gigantic house lay just ahead, and Emmett could see a bunch of townspeople pulling things out of vehicles and setting them up. It seemed like everyone was here, and the stupid party wasn't even until the next day.

Well, Emmett didn't think the party was a dumb idea—there'd be desserts, after all. But _she_ did, and he was on her side, no matter what.

He heard the sound of a car driving up behind him, so he scooted over to grass strip between the driveway and the fence. A quick glance over his shoulder revealed one of the last people he wanted to see.

Dr. Cullen.

But he had to play nice if he wanted to hang out with her.

"Hey, Emmett! How are you this afternoon?"

"Fine, thank you," he mumbled, trying not to frown.

"Do you want a ride up to the house?"

Emmett almost rolled his eyes. It was, like, _right_ _there_. He could probably run the distance faster than it would take the old man to drive it.

"No, Dr. Cullen. I'm fine." His nose wanted to wrinkle so badly that it twitched. "Um, thanks anyway."

"Alright then. If I see her, would you like me to tell her you're here?"

"No way! I mean, uh, no thank you."

The doctor nodded, chuckled, and drove off.

Slowly.

Emmett scowled at the tail lights as he tried one last time to make his clothes look a little better. He told himself that his display of manners was worth it—_she_ was worth it. After all, if things worked out the way he wanted, he'd have to put up with her annoying dad for a long time to come.

"Emmett, sweetie, you made it!"

His mom was setting up chairs at tables under a large canopy tent.

"Hey," he muttered and continued to the house.

He hadn't gone very far when a large figure carrying a folding table stepped directly in his path.

"That was pretty sad, Big Man. Go give your mom a hand."

"But—"

"Seriously, am I gonna have to put you over my shoulder and take you there myself?"

"No."

"Good. You'd better do a decent job, or I'm not gonna let you have the first look at the new game shipment I got in today."

"It came?" Emmett yelped. "And the new Zombie Raider game for PS4? Alright!" He spun around and ran to the tent.

"Nice one, Jake." Edward approached, a table in his hands, as well. "You definitely have a way with him."

Jake laughed. "Rosie thinks it's because we're at the same maturity level."

"Hardly. You've changed a lot in the last five years."

"Yeah." There was a mixture of pain and happiness in his voice.

The two men took their tables to the canopy, each thinking of how a drunken Dave McCarty had crashed his vehicle into Jake's car one night. Dave didn't survive the accident, and Jake had sustained serious internal injury.

His recovery took a long time, but something amazing did arise from the tragedy. Rosalie McCarty had felt guilty for the suffering her deceased husband had caused and insisted on helping Jake get back on his feet. A relationship slowly developed between them, and after a year of living together, a much-changed Jake Whitlock proposed. Their wedding was to take place in two months, in June.

"Does Aisha know he's here?" Jake asked as they set up the tables.

"He asked me not to tell her. I have a feeling he thinks I'm discouraging her from being friends with him, which couldn't be further from the truth. Emmett's good for her. He's about the only one who can get her to open up."

"It'll happen in time. Look how far she's come in the past two years."

Edward smiled. The change was indeed drastic. When Aisha and her older brother, Darius, first arrived at the Cullens' house, she was an angry, combative eight-year-old who seemed to enjoy causing trouble. But her behavior was understandable, given her history. She and Darius had suffered years of physical abuse from their parents until social services stepped in.

Unlike Darius, who had retreated inside himself, Aisha challenged everyone and everything. She lied, stole, and threw spectacular fits, but Edward and Isabella had taken it all in stride. They supported and loved her but also set firm boundaries with real consequences. After months upon months of their steady guidance, Aisha's tough defensive exterior began to soften. She was still quick to anger and didn't fully trust her foster family, but as the weeks went by, her eyes continued to lose some of their wariness.

Edward and Jake went back to the truck for more tables. There was no way of knowing how many people would show up to the opening, but Isabella expected a large turnout. After all, quite a number of residents took part in the planning and execution of the community project, as well as the next day's event.

"It looks really good," Jake commented, glancing at the spacious glass structure on a large plot of land to the left of the house. "Dad said Bells did a great job with the greenhouse plans. Said she should think about becoming an architect or something."

"Of course she did well," Edward said proudly. Then he gave his friend an amused glance. "You know she's not a fan of that nickname."

"Eh, she just likes to give me grief. Besides, you call her Bella. She doesn't seem to mind that."

"No, I call her _my_ Bella. Which she is, thank you very much."

"I am?"

Edward set his table down on the ground, walked over to his wife, and held her wrists behind her back as if she were handcuffed.

"Most definitely," he said in a low voice, his lips coming down to her jaw. "Do you need another reminder of how much you belong to me?"

Isabella tilted her head to give him access to her neck. "Yes, I think I do," she murmured.

"Lord, you two are almost as bad as Daddy Doc and Momma C," Jake complained. "Emmett's right over there. You're gonna make him jealous again."

Isabella laughed. "Emmett's been over me for a while. He moved on to another older woman—my daughter."

"Older by a year," Jake protested. "Give the boy break."

"Speaking of Aisha, where are the kids?" Edward asked, glancing at the house. "I thought Kaitlyn would be out here socializing."

"She and Ash are online looking at descriptions of all the available rescue kittens in a sixty-mile radius. Have I mentioned yet how much I appreciate your dad bringing up the subject of pets last week?" She stepped out of Edward's loose hold and crossed her arms.

He held his hands in front of him as if they could deflect her ire. "Hey, you know it could have been worse. He'd been dead set on getting each of them a pony."

She shuddered. "As if I don't have enough to do as it is. Which reminds me—will you be finished with the tables soon? I could use your help taking the signs out to the greenhouse."

"Yes, ma'am. I'll meet you in the garage in five."

"How about ten? I want to check on the girls and make sure Noah isn't driving Alice crazy in the kitchen." She stood on her tiptoes and pecked Edward on the lips.

"Ten it is." He hooked a finger on one of hers, keeping contact for as long as possible as she walked toward the house.

"Man, you are so whipped." Jake chuckled.

"Maybe later, if I get lucky," Edward said with a smirk.

"Oh my god, you've really got to lay off the Viagra samples, Doc."

The two men bantered as they set up the remaining tables. Afterward, Jake went to help Emmett and his fiancé with the chairs, and Edward made his way to the garage.

"Daddy!"

A little boy with dark brown hair and light green eyes bolted out of the house toward his father. Edward stopped, shook his head, and laughed.

"Son, where in the world are your clothes?" He knelt down and prepared to receive his running child.

"I hadda assi-dent!" Noah shouted gleefully, lunging at Edward.

"Oh!"

Edward had been about to hug him but instead held him up in the air…and slightly away.

"Mommy cleaned me," the little boy continued, wiggling to get closer.

"Ah. That's good to know." Edward finally brought him in.

"Noah Anthony Cullen!" Isabella called out as she marched from the house, shaking a set of boy's clothing in her hand. "You do _not_ run away from Mommy without any clothes on!"

"I think you need to say sorry, Bud," Edward said in the sternest voice he could manage, given how much he wanted to burst into laughter.

Noah's face fell as he turned to look at his mother. "Sorry, Mommy. I wanted to see Daddy a lot." His lower lip trembled.

Isabella bit her own lip, fighting not to grin at her three-year-old's adorably repentant expression. "Thank you for apologizing, Noah. Now let's take you in to get dressed. Maybe Daddy will come with us and explain to your sisters why we are not adopting an entire litter of seven kittens." She quirked an accusing eyebrow at him as she took Noah into her arms.

Inside the house, Edward went up to the second level—he always choose the right side of the double staircase for some reason—and quietly peered through the open doorway into Aisha's bedroom.

His four-year-old daughter, almost five, sat on the lap of his ten-year-old daughter, both staring at a computer screen full of cat images. Aisha had her arm around Kaitlyn's waist to keep her steady when she bounced in excitement.

The sight nearly made his eyes water. His little girls. He wanted to run in, scoop them up, and hug them silly, but instead, he tapped lightly on the door frame and cleared his throat.

"Yeah," Aisha said, not looking away from the computer.

Edward was happy that she felt safe enough around him to keep her guard down. Because of her biological father, she had a deep-seated mistrust of men. In the beginning, her eyes stayed on him at all times, and she always oriented herself so that she fully faced him.

As Jake said, Aisha had come a long way.

Still, he and Isabella insisted on good manners, and her impolite behavior couldn't be ignored.

"_Hello_, girls," he said, infusing his voice with expectant sternness.

Kaitlyn, who had not realized he was home, spun on Aisha's lap while pointing at the screen.

"Daddy, look at the kittens! Can we get them, please? Pretty, pretty please?" Her eyes were wild with excitement.

Aisha adjusted her grip on the wriggly little girl and glanced at Edward.

"Hi," she said, her face neutral.

He nodded his acknowledgement and slowly walked into the room, being careful to stop several feet away. The last thing he wanted to do was cause a setback.

"Please please please…" Kaitlyn's chants were time to her bouncing.

He should have probed Isabella more deeply about her feelings on the issue before coming to see them, he realized.

"Uh, what did your mother say?"

"She said we had to decide as a family," Kaitlyn explained eagerly . "And we all have to help, even Noah."

"Well, then I'll talk to her about having a family meeting when Darius gets home, okay?"

"Yay! Thank you, Daddy!"

She jumped off Aisha's lap and ran to him for a hug. He held her close and reveled in the youthful exuberance. Aisha only smiled, but for Edward, it was just as special.

Two hours later, Seth Clearwater dropped Darius off from work. The fifteen-year-old helped out at Jake's gaming shop, which also featured a diverse comic book selection and the largest collection of Legos in the state. However, most of the business was conducted online, and Darius handled the majority of it.

The intelligent young man had taken an interest when Isabella first set up Jake's online storefront. She and Edward were part owners of the business, and initially, Isabella took care of the virtual aspect. After Darius learned the basics from her, he quickly became proficient and volunteered to assume the role. Isabella was glad to oblige and soon felt that her son had found his niche in life. Although Darius didn't know it, his parents were already planning to turn over their half of the business to him after he graduated high school, if he wanted it.

The family meeting, which naturally included Alice, went well, the children presenting a united front on the pro side of getting a pet. In the end, it was decided that they would get _two _kittens to keep each other company when home alone. The only damper on Aisha and Kaitlyn's excitement was the timeline, though they did grudgingly admit that it would be better to wait until summer vacation before bringing any new family members home.

Edward and Isabella didn't get to bed until late that night. They were both tired and faced an early morning but still snuggled together and chatted, as was their nighttime custom.

"Just think, five years ago tonight, I was in this bed alone," Isabella commented with a yawn.

Edward kissed her temple and chuckled. "That's because you kicked me out and sent me to Joe's."

"Whatever," she scoffed. "You were just as much about the tradition as I was. Besides, I think you were happy to get away."

"Never!" he protested, then smirked. "Well, maybe a little. You have to admit that you were a bit, um, crabby at the time."

"I had a good reason to be. And, you were just as much to blame for that as I was."

"Maybe more so. I was the one the challenged the group to a Power Hour."

"Such a sad attempt to cling to your youth, sweetie," Isabella laughed. "Besides, you should have known better than to take on Aunt Dee. That woman is part fish."

"Hey, _you_ should have remembered that you can't hold your alcohol."

"I don't have any complaints about the way things turned out, though," she replied quietly, lovingly.

"I know. I wouldn't change a thing." Edward squeezed her tightly. "Not even the way I found out about Kaitlyn."

"The clearing was so beautiful with the trees' fall foliage that day," Isabella reminisced. "You couldn't have picked a better setting. I should've figured out something was up by the way you'd been acting, but I didn't have the slightest clue until you got down on one knee…"

"And was immediately interrupted by something I _never_ saw coming…"

"I wish we'd have gotten a video of it. Oh god, the look on your face when I told you I was pregnant…"

"Who could have guessed that one of Aunt Dee's parties would be so epic?"

"The stomach flu had a big hand in it, too," Isabella reminded him. "I should've made sure we used a backup after all that vomiting I did."

"Don't take all the credit yourself, sweetheart," Edward said smugly. "It didn't occur to me, either, and I'm a doctor! I think we subconsciously wanted it to happen."

"Yeah. We probably would've started trying soon after you proposed, anyway. And I know I've said this so many times already, but I loved that we waited to get married and had the larger wedding your mom wanted. It was perfect sharing the day with so many of our friends and family. Though I have to say, I hated trying to find a wedding dress that I liked, which also would fit an eight-month pregnant woman."

"God, you were so beautiful that day," Edward sighed wistfully as he traced his finger over Isabella's wedding ring.

Then he saw her raised eyebrow.

"Not that you aren't every day, of course!"

"Uh-huh. Nice try, mister."

"Um...I love you, and...you're the best friend, wife, and mother to his children a man could ever want?" He brought out the most convincing puppy-dog-eyes-with-lower-lip-pout expression he could produce.

"That's a little better, sweetie," she said and kissed him soundly. "Here's to five wonderful years together and fifty more just like them."

"And also to tomorrow's opening ceremony of the Renee Swan Botanical Gardens, donated to the community by her daughter, who just happens to be my amazing wife, as well."

Isabella laughed as he wrapped his legs around her thighs and pulled her on top of him.

"Well," she responded, "this amazing wife couldn't have done it without the help of her generous and supportive family." She caressed his face while looking deeply into those mesmerizing green eyes. "I love you, Edward."

He smiled tenderly and guided her lips to his for a sweet, lingering kiss.

"I love you, too, my Flower Girl."

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><p><strong>This had been my original final chapter, but thanks to a straight-shooting (albeit tactless) guest reviewer, I decided to take another stab at Chapter 23. Anyhow, I decided to post this because of it linear connection with the main story. Hope you liked it! Love you all! <strong>


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